


The Kitten's Kurse

by thatonefangirl0713



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aftercare, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bathroom Sex, Clubbing, Condoms, Consent is Sexy, Dry Orgasm, Flashbacks, Heartbreak, Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma Friendship, Implied Sexual Content, Kozume Kenma and Kuroo Tetsurou Are Roommates, Kuroo and Kenma are Dense, Light Dom/sub, Lube, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Mutually Unrequited, Original Character(s), POV Hinata Shouyou, POV Kageyama Tobio, POV Kozume Kenma, POV Kuroo Tetsurou, Platoninc Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma, Pole Dancing, Possessive Behavior, Underage Drinking, Why does Kuroo have a bruise, breakdowns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-09-17 13:22:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 106,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9326645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonefangirl0713/pseuds/thatonefangirl0713
Summary: Kenma has been in love with Kuroo for as long as he can remember, but he has never told him how he feels. Mostly because is is certain that Kuroo is straight. They now attend the same college (Kenma is studying to be a game designer and Kuroo is going to be a science teacher), and are roommates on top of that. Kenma returns home from class one day, looking to get Kuroo's help with a project and he hears Kuroo with someone ... someone definitely male. How will Kenma react to this turn of events?  Will Kenma get his happy ending?





	1. Last Friday Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this is my very first attempt at writing ever. So please excuse the typos (but please let me know what is wrong so i can fix it!). A good friend of mine said that she wished someone could write a fic under the prompt "Kenma has to hang out in the college common room while Kuroo is in the room with his new bae". It might not be exactly what she was thinking of but this is where my brain and the story lead me. So Here you go Liv! (p.s. she had to help me with the title, so kudos to her! She is also my editor!)
> 
> Please let me know your feedback so I can continue with the story. I'll prob ask for specific input for later chapters though. I found as I write, I will have a song linked to certain parts that helped me write the material, which I will state in the notes before hand so feel free to listen to those songs as you read, Typically, it will be the title of the chapter too. 
> 
> Song for ch 1 - "Last Friday Night" - Katy Perry

 

“That’s it for today” Uchida sensei droned as the bell rang, signaling the end of the last period for the day. “And don’t forget, your design ideas for your final project will be due Monday, so make sure you have them ready to be turned in and approved by me then.”

Kenma watched as the short, squat game development professor scuttled around at the front of the room, tidying the space as the rest of the class left. Listening to the mindless chatter of his classmates as they discussed amongst themselves what their projects were going to be. One wants to craft a RPG similar to Skyrim but set in steampunk Japan in the year 3050. Another was looking to combine the shooting element of Call of Duty with the racing element of Mario Cart. And yet another was looking into designing games for the elderly or patients with Alzheimer’s to see if it could help improve memory function and physicality in those people. _He was so screwed._

It was only the beginning of the semester of Kenma’s second year at Waseda University in Tokyo, but it already felt like he had been in this class for ages. When he had originally picked his major, Game Design and Development, it had been mainly on a whim. Yes, he loved playing video games and he devoted most of his waking hours to playing. He had even had pulled many an all-nighter following the release of a new game only to then sleep like the dead for three days straight. So, in the end, maybe this choosing this major was actually unavoidable and had been his destiny. At least that’s what he told himself was the reason he had decided to come to Waseda.

As Kenma shuffled out of the classroom and headed to his dorm, he tried to play with different ideas of what type of game he could design for his final project. _Maybe a game where you are a cat and you walk around town, meowing at people and jumping up to high places and gaining points for how many people you scratch and trees you get stuck in. No that’s stupid. Maybe a game that is like Madden for Quidditch? Nah, too nerdy. I could … maybe … how about …_ Kenma was shaking his head more and more violently with each new idea he shot down until half of his shoulder length hair had freed itself from the confines of his loose ponytail to frame his face.

The blonde ombre (with black roots) had been his signature look since he had been a high school student at Nekoma. Pulling his hair tie free, he gave his head a good few hard shakes to let his hair flow freely and then threw it back up into a messy ponytail. By the time he had pulled his hands away from his head, he was at his dorms front door. Wrestling his wallet from his back pocket and swiping his student id through the card reader to enter the building.

He was very lucky to have been housed in the Waseda International Student House (or the WISH facility as everyone called it). Typically, it was reserved for international students only, but they always took a small number of domestic students by a lottery system. And if that wasn’t enough, he had been assigned to a room that only shared with one other person

The common room wasn’t very busy yet, his class having been in a building closer to the dorms than some of the other buildings. However, there were people milling about, preparing for the weekend. A group of girls were huddled in the small public use kitchenette, attempting to bake … cookies maybe? The air smelled sweet, but also carried the tang of something burnt. Kenma’s suspicions were confirmed a minute later by the keening screeches from the group, lamenting their lack of skills. Another group had crowded around the large flatscreen to watch the soccer game between Japan and the USA. Judging by the cheers and overall upbeat atmosphere, Japan was winning. The chimes of cellphones going off. The bustle of students and backpacks as the came and left the dorm. The clack of pool balls on the billiards table.

_Noisy, noisy noisy!_ Kenma pulled his backpack tighter on his shoulders and picked up the pace to the stairs that would lead to the fifth floor. Sliding his hand along the railing, Kenma began the long descent up to his and Kuroo’s room. Absent mindedly, Kenma wondered if his roommate was back from class yet. Kuroo didn’t have a last class, mainly because he was a third year while Kenma was only a second year. Along with the year difference, Kuroo was studying to be a teacher and was about to start his term of student teaching next semester.

Kuroo had been Kenma’s best friend for as long as he could remember. As a child, Kenma didn’t make friends easy and, to be honest, didn’t try very hard to make friends. Too much work to maintain relationships for what usually ended in drifting apart. Kenma just didn’t think it was worth the effort. Being more than content to sit in his room and play the newest edition of Super Mario Brothers on his Gameboy. However, Kuroo was different. Kuroo didn’t ask Kenma to ever be someone other than who he truly was, and that put Kenma at ease. The only requests that Kuroo had ever made of him all revolved around volleyball.

***

Kuroo had had a volleyball in his hands the first time he had met him at the neighborhood park, trying to get some of the other kids to play with him. When he had spotted Kenma on one of the benches, playing FIFA Soccer on his new Gameboy Advance, he had dashed over to him.

“Hey!” The boy towered over Kenma’s hunched form, throwing him into shadows. The boy was clutching somekind of ball, _what kind_ , Kenma had no clue. “Do you want to play with me?”

Kenma looked the boy over. Taller than Kenma but only by a few inches. Black hair that seemed to stick out in all directions, _almost like he just woke up and hasn’t brushed his hair yet_. Hazel eyes that seemed to hold an otherworldly shine, meant to trap and ensnare those who let their guard down.

“I’m already playing a game.” Kenma said mumbled as he turned his attention back to his game, urging his forward player down the field towards the goal.

“What are you playing?” The boy sounded truly interested in what Kenma was playing, which caused Kenma’s eyes to pull away from the screen. No one had really been interested in what he was playing before. Usually other kids wanted to avoid him, thinking he was strange for spending most of his time alone, playing by himself.

“FIFA. It’s a soccer game.” Kenma said as he wearily eyed the strange boy. _What did he want. Is he just toying with me?_

“Oh, that sounds cool!” a wide smile split the boy’s face and all Kenma could do was blink up at him. On top of most people avoiding him, almost nobody, except his parents, EVER smiled at him like that. Kenma’s hands slowly lowered to his lap. “But you know what is also pretty cool? Volleyball! How about you come and play with me for a little bit and then you can show me how to play FIFA?” The boy looked down at Kenma and stretched out his hand for Kenma to take it. The look in his eyes conveyed hope that Kenma would join him, yet at the same time it almost seemed like he completely expected Kenma to join him without a second thought. Looking down at his game once more, then back up to the boy, Kenma slowly slid the power button off on the handheld device and reached up to take the boys hand.

“By the way, my names Kuroo. Kuroo Tetsuro. What’s your name?” The boy looked to his left as they walked to a grassy sport, Kuroo tossing the ball up and catching it a few times.

“Kozume Kenma. So how do you play Kuro-san?” Kenma stood opposite Kuroo now that they had reached their destination. The sun beating down on their backs, a slight breeze ruffling his hair, and the smell of takoyaki gently floating in the air from the market on the next street. As Kenma took everything in, he looked once more at Kuroo’s face and the bright, wide smile that seemed to be plastered there and felt a slight blush on his cheeks and a small flutter in his chest. _Odd. Hopefully I’m not getting sick._

***

Unfortunately, Kenma did end up getting sick. Just not in the way that his young, eight-year-old mind could comprehend at the time, but his older self would understand quite clearly. This kind of sickness couldn’t be cured with something simple like antibiotics or rest. It didn’t show any outward signs of its hold on the body like a fever or a cough. It didn’t get passed from one person to another through close contact like the flu, no matter how much Kenma wanted to pass it on.

No, this was an all-encompassing, burning, life altering sickness that sinks its claws in and drags you down until you can’t breathe and then holds you there. Stuck between living and wanting to die from the strength of it. It was fickle in the way it seemed to squeeze your heart, as if in a vice grip, robbing you of your breath and all thought. But then all that pressure would bleed out into a gentle warm under the skin that travel out to the farthest reaches of your nerve endings with only a single word or just the mere sight of the thing that had caused the pain in the first place. This sickness was known well by so many people, no matter their age, race, religion or gender.

Love really could be such a bitch. Kenma knew this very well, as it had shown up almost ten years ago and decided to make a permanent residence in his heart ever since then. Fuck! Kenma shook his head again, coming to a stop on the landing, which he realized was the floor he needed. Taking a deep breath, he turned to the left and walked down the hall towards his and Kuroo’s room. He was really quite lucky that Kuroo was a year older than him. It meant they got to enter the lottery system earlier for the dorms, even though Kenma was only a second year. The first and second years usually shared a single room with a roommate. No privacy, no room to even breathe sometimes. However, the third and fourth years could either stay in the dorms or get an apartment. The dorms at WISH resembled a double or quadruple apartment, where each roommate got their own room with a central kitchen and living space. And while, yes, it was more expensive than an apartment off campus, the fact that you could still walk everywhere on campus in less than 10 min was what eventually lead to Kenma deciding to stay in the dorms. _Well, that and the fact that Kuroo had asked if he would stay with him since they were best friends and everything. And I’m so far gone I would do anything he asked me to. Loser!_


	2. Why Not Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kenma finds Kuroo at the apartment, but not like he imagines. 
> 
> This chapter's song is "Why Not Me" - Enrique Iglesias

As Kenma dug the dorm key out of his pocket, he couldn’t help mentally kicking himself. Yes, Kenma was hopelessly in love with his best friend. Yes, they were sharing a dorm together. Yes, he would do anything that let him stay close to Kuroo. Yes, if Kuroo ever wanted Kenma in any way as more than a friend, Kenma would hit that faster than a homeless man on a ham sandwich!

But … Kuroo was straight. Always had been, always would be. In high school, Kuroo had gone out with any girl that caused him to turn his head. And that was fine with Kenma… really. He could understand the appeal. It was normal to like girls. To like the sweet way they smelled, the softness of their voices, the shape of their bodies. Kenma understood, but had just never seen the appeal. Sure, some of the female characters in his games he found slightly attractive, but it was never the overly feminine characters with ditzy attitudes and breasts larger than the fucking sun but could defy the laws of gravity. No, it was the intelligent, more realistic, more lifelike characters that intrigued him. Like Rhyme from “The World Ends with You” or even the later versions of Lara Croft for “Tomb Raider”.

However, not even those characters could even hold a candle to Kuroo. Not only was Kuroo amazing at volleyball, _still playing the position of middle blocker that he did at Nekoma for the Waseda University team_. He was funny. Loyal to a fault. Intelligent (he was the reason Kenma had never failed a test by teaching him the material beforehand, and also the reason he had decided to become a teacher). And beautiful. Kuroo was sex on legs, a walking orgasm. The way his boyish smile had turned into a roguish smirk, left Kenma’s legs feeling like jelly. Kuroo was now a full 7 inches taller than Kenma now instead of just an inch or two like when they were kids. He still had his bedhead hair, but now a patch fell down in front of his right eye giving him an air of mystery. The way Kuroo’s body had looked after volleyball practice when they were changing to head home. Flushed, shiny with sweat, his muscles standing out against his smooth skin, made Kenma want to run not only his fingers but his tongue over every lean ripple, every fiber. And don’t even get him started on Kuroo’s perfect, thick, firm thighs that had made an appearance in pretty much every single one of Kenma’s wet dreams. _GOD!_ Kenma would give up every game he had and any game he would ever have in the future just to be able to be with Kuroo, just once!

Letting out a shaking breath, trying to calm down the erection that had decided to make itself known at that last, delicious thought. If Kuroo was just on the other side of the door, he didn’t want to have to explain, or be joked with. Fluffing his shirt out, hoping it came low enough on his hips just in case, Kenma unlocked the door and pushed his way inside.

Breathing deeply, Kenma could pick up the different smells of their dorm. The spicy undertones of the curry they had made last night. The slightly stale, sweaty aroma of, let’s face it, two guys living together. The tang of citrus, the saltiness of the sea, the muskiness and warmth of leather, and the soft, loving notes of red roses. Paco Rabanne’s 1 Million. _Kuroo …_

The smell of the cologne that Kuroo always wore was strong today, so he must have gotten home a while ago. Confirmed by the pair of black sneakers left by the door. However, today there was another pair of navy sneakers with lime green laces. Kenma knew that Kuroo had a current bae. _Shima … tana … Suzuki! I’m so bad with names._

Kenma cocked his head. He didn’t take Suzuki-san as the type to wear sneakers though. Suzuki Yuna was every guys fantasy and the envy of every girl. Long, glossy black hair that never seemed to be out of place. Impeccable make up and pristinely manicured nails. The perfect height to fit under a man’s arm and the perfect weight to be carried like a princess without their carrier even breaking a sweat. Always wearing the latest fashions, and designers. _No,_  Suzuki-san would never deign herself to wear sneakers.

So then who would be in their dorm if not for Suzuki-san or Kuroo? Maybe Kuroo had a teammate over and they were watching the latest volleyball game of Japan vs Italy. Constructing strategies to implement into their next game or practice.

Looking into the living space Kenma could see that, no, no one was watching the TV. _Hmmm._ Maybe he had invited over a classmate to work on a project or to do mock lesson plans. But the dining room table where they usually did their homework was empty too.

Maybe Suzuki-san and Kuroo had broken up and had brought another girl home this time. _Kuroo can really rebound fast sometimes,_ Kenma thought to himself as he walked into his own room. Plopping his backpack on the bed, he rummaged around in his backpack for his Nintendo ds, Kenma thought he could just stay in here, plug in his headphones in case the “noises” go too loud and would just wait until their guest left. He wanted to try and bounce some ideas off Kuroo for his project. _Ugh, so not looking forward to …_

“Ooooooh….” A low, drawn out moan escaped from Kuroo’s room. Loud enough to travel through the space of the living room, kitchen, and finally into Kenma’s room.

_But … that’s not Kuroo’s voice._ Kenma had heard Kuroo’s voice enough times when he was with a girl before. The low chuckles, when Kuroo was just getting started. The deep groans when he was getting blown. The slight whine his moans took on and how his breath would get faster and more irregular the longer he was inside her. And his shouts, either quiet and suppressed or loud and guttural, as he found his climax. Kenma knew every sound, and had used them as his masturbation material for many years now.

But this voice … this voice didn’t belong to Kuroo. And it didn’t belong to Suzuki-san. It was lower, more gruff, more like a man. _No… Please GOD, no!_ Kuroo couldn’t be with a guy. He hadn’t shown any predilection of liking guys as more than friends in the entire time Kenma knew him. And Kenma was always watching Kuroo. Kenma swayed where he stood, throwing his arm out to brace against the door frame. _There’s no way …_

“Mmmmm … _Kuroo!”_ The deep voice gasped from behind Kuroo’s door. That was definitely a man’s voice. Kenma felt his heart break into a million pieces. The shards shredding his insides like a meat grinder as they fell from his chest, leaving deep gouges as they traveled down to his feet. One sharp piece by sharp, painful piece. His hand griped a little tighter around the Nintendo ds he had pulled out of his backpack.

_Maybe … maybe it’s not Kuroo. I mean it’s his shoes and this is his dorm, but … maybe it’s not him!_ Kenma hoped against hope that this new train of thought would prove true. It was entirely plausible that some horny college students got into their room and were now ...

 “ _Nowaki!”_ Kuroo panted.

Kenma looked down at his chest, looking for damage, convinced there should be blood pouring down his chest. He could feel the last remaining piece of his heart crumble and slice his chest open so he was slightly amazed that he was still breathing and not bleeding out on the floor right now. Any trace of the erection he had had just a moment ago, completely gone now.  

Kenma knew he should leave. He was just torturing himself standing in his room, listening to the love of his life fuck another man. Another man who was not him. And after this, probably never would be. If Kuroo could sleep with a guy, especially one who was most definitely NOT Kenma, that must mean that Kenma never had a chance in hell from the start.

Picking up one numb leg, Kenma took a step forward. Even though the common room was probably crowded right now, he could probably find a quiet corner to play a game in. At least the copious amounts of white noise in the background may help drown out his thoughts. As Kenma’s foot came down on the floor, there was a loud thud from Kuroo’s room.

Kenma squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth so hard he thought they would crack. Another step forward, another thud, this time followed by a low moan. Step, _thud_ , step, _thud_ , step, _thud_. What god has he royally pissed off that they had decided to not only crush his heart to bits but rip his soul out through his ears as the sounds of Kuroo’s and “ _Nowaki’s_ ” thrusting were timing themselves perfectly with his steps to the door.

Kenma tried to pick up the pace and walk faster to the door, but it seemed that the couple had had the very same idea. Kenma’s palms had started to sweat by now, slipping on the doorknob in his rush to get the damn thing open.

Throwing the door open, but shutting it quietly, not wanting to be discovered having walked in on Kuroo. _Not this time._ He had walked in on Kuroo before, but Kuroo always asked what Kenma wanted to do. Sometimes he would just go to his room and listen to his games with his headphones. Other times he would go hang out with Hinata or one of the other guys from the Nekoma team if they were in the area. But this time was different.

As Kenma got further away from his door, the thumping got quieter and quieter. By the time he had reached the stairs, there were no sounds anymore. Almost as if what Kenma had heard had never happened. Kenma could almost convince himself that what he had heard was a mistake. That Suzuki-san had decided to try “commoner’s clothes” and that explained the sneakers. That she had a cold which accounted for her deeper voice…

But … Suzuki-san’s name was not … _NOT_ Nowaki. Kenma could feel his legs shaking as he descended the stairs back to the common room. _Keep it together_. He was in public and he would not humiliate himself by breaking down and crying. Later when he was alone, he would let his emotions free, but not now.

Rounding the corner to the common room, Kenma saw that there was a couch in the far corner that was not in use right now. _Thank you God!_ At least one thing seemed to be in his favor after this day from hell.

Setting into the firm green and blue plaid cushions, Kenma tucked his feet up under his butt and turned on his Gameboy ds. The logo for Pokemon Pearl flashed across the screen. _Huh, it’s been a while since I played this._ Not having realized he had forgotten to grab a game as well in his hurry to get out. If there hadn’t been a game already in the ds, he didn’t know what he would have done.

Kenma settled into a comfortable ball on the couch, pulling his knees up to his chest and tucking his heels tight against his butt. Walking around in the game gave his brain somewhere else to be. Somewhere that wasn’t sitting on a couch, with his heart in the dust and the knowledge that the person he loved more than life itself, didn’t want him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you guys enough for the support and positive feedback for my first ever writing experience that I didn't have to do for school or work :)


	3. Dead Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pokemon + Hinata
> 
> Song: Dead Inside by Skillet

“Hey Kenma, I’m gonna be the best Pokémon trainer around! Wanna fight?!” _Bdoo, bdoo, bdoo, doo, doo, doo._ As a young blonde trainer popped up on Kenma’s screen, he tried to focus all his energy and thoughts on the battle in front of him. Words scroll across the screen stating, “You have been challenged by PkMn trainer Damien. PkMn trainer Damien has sent out Umbreon!”

A small red and white ball shot onto the screen and split open along the seam between the two colors to reveal a black fox-like creature with red eyes. It had yellow circles on its hips, shoulders, forehead, and one yellow band around its tail and each ear.

_Umbreon. Dark type. Evolves from Eevee and is the tallest of the evolutions. Many different types of attacks. Resistant to Ghost and Dark types. Weak to Fighting, Bug, Fairy, and Flying types._ Kenma quickly ran through the stats for the opponent’s Pokémon in his mind and considered what possibilities he had to battle it. Of the six that he kept on his belt, two were flying, one was dark, one was psychic, and two were dragons. _So, it should be between Staravia and Fearow_.

His Fearow was already evolved as far as he could be, having evolved a few weeks ago from Spearow. However, his Staravia was still only a second evolution and could use the XP to get it closer to its final form if it won this battle. Glancing to the opposite corner of the screen, Kenma saw that Damien only had that one Pokémon, which confirmed Kenma’s evaluation of the situation. He clicked through his available Pokémon and sent Staravia out for battle.

Kenma’s own red and white Pokeball plopped onto the screen and a small bird creature came out. He had always thought that the animal had looked like Bokuto Koutarou, the volleyball ace from Fukurodani, who now played for the Japanese Team. With its grey and white feathers and its propensity to make an electronic “hooting” sound, Kenma was sure that it had been created in Bokuto’s image. He was essentially an owl in human form, aside from his boisterous personality. _His name even meant Horned Owl_!

Scrolling through the attacks that he had chosen for Staravia, Kenma selected Aerial Ace. A quick attack that never misses. _A special flying attack, which should work well against Umbreon_. As the small bird flew off the screen and slashed across the Umbreon, Kenma watched as the HP bar of the dark Pokémon dwindled to half, changing from green to yellow.

“It was SUPER effective” the game informed Kenma. “Umbreon uses SCREECH!” A high-pitched, off-tone, nails-on-the-chalkboard tune twinkled out of the game setting Kenma’s teeth on edge. It didn’t cause any damage to his Staravia, _but it has lowered Staravia’s defenses making him more susceptible to attacks_. “What will Staravia do?” The screen prompted.

_I could perform the same attack and hope it is as effective as last time. Or I could use another ability, like Baby Doll Eyes, that could lower Umbreon’s attack power._ Kenma wavered for only a second longer before deciding on Aerial Attack again. Hoping for a similar result as last time.

“Umbreon used quick attack!” Before Kenma’s Staravia could use his attack, Damien’s Umbreon had used a special attack that always let the user attack first in battle. Kenma gripped the Gameboy a bit tighter as he watched his Pokémon’s health drop to only a third of what it was before the attack. Everything was riding on this Aerial Ace. Knowing that if Umbreon used quick attack again, Kenma’s Staravia was going to be down for the count.

Watching as the Flying Pokémon rose up off the screen and crashed into the Umbreon, Kenma had started formulating another attack plan in case this didn’t work completely. _I could switch Staravia out for Fearow and finish him off before Staravia faints, which will still give him XP jus tnot as much as if he won on his own. Or I could let him try again and hope Umbreon doesn’t use Quick Attack again._ Too many choices. But as Kenma kept his eyes on the Umbreon’s health bar, it went from yellow, to orange, to red, … to gone.

“It’s SUPER effective!” Kenma released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as the Umbreon sunk into the screen. Having fainted from the attack, and Damien not having any more Pokémon, Kenma had won the battle. “Staravia has gained 900 XP! Staravia has grown to level 34!”

The game buzzed in Kenma’s hand and the screen went dark. Expecting to have to talk to “PkMn Trainer Damien” once the screen opened back up, Kenma was momentarily taken aback when a green screen popped up with Staravia in the center. _Oh, that’s right; Staravia evolves at level 34 to Staraptor. I wonder what he looks like?_

Having only gotten the game recently, Kenma had not seen every Pokémon yet. Some you couldn’t even catch or encounter in the wild. Trainers had to evolve them in order to achieve them. _Some you can only get through trading with other live players too,_ but that was a different issue.

Kenma looked on as his Staravia began to morph and contort between the known and unknown evolution forms. White clouds swirling around the Pokémon. The device vibrating lightly in his hands. A bright, white light flashed on the screen revealing the new evolved Pokémon, and Kenma audibly gasped at what he saw.

“Congratulations! Your Staravia has evolved into Staraptor!” The grey and white patterned feathers were similar enough to the previous form, but the creature was now bigger and had a new patch of red-tipped black feather that hung over its face. Over its right eye. Just like … Kuroo … who was probably upstairs still …

“KENMA!!!!!” The bright, bubbly shout shook Kenma out of his thoughts and brought him back to the present. Away from his room. Away from Kuroo.

He knew who that voice belonged to without even having to look to confirm the owner’s identity. Knew that Chihuahua sized, orange haired, ball of energy was bounding up to him as he rambled on. “Today was _SOOOOO_ hard! My Sports Management professor said that we have to set up and do three interviews by the end of the month with different managers in the area and one has to be from a high school, one from an adult league, and one from either a profession or semi-professional team and I don’t even KNOW anyone Kenma how on earth am I supposed to do this if I don’t know people, AND …”

Kenma could see the toes of Hinata Shoyo’s white and red volleyball shoes comes into view. So, he must have been practicing or is going to practice right now. It took Kenma a moment to realize that the space between them had gone silent because the usual immutable chatterbox had stopped talking, even though he was still standing in front of him.

“…Kenma?…” Hinata’s voice was breathy and had taken on a reedy, tight edge. One that Kenma had only heard infrequently in the past, usually when was really concerned about something but was afraid to ask about it directly. Tearing his eyes from Hinata’s shoes, slowly dragging them upwards, until he could look into the concerned chocolate brown eyes of one of his closest friends. “ … Kenma … why are you crying?”

Kenma reached his right hand up to brush numb fingers across his cheek and was met by a wet trail that spanned from his eye down to his chin. He glanced down at his wet fingertips, rubbing them together, feeling the slick fluid spread easily between his fingers, evaporating quickly the more he moved his fingers about. When did that start? He didn’t even feel the tears rolling down his cheeks now. Only knowing that they were there after a few had fallen off his chin and landed on his game screen.

“Come with me.” Hinata gently, yet firmly enough to prevent Kenma from objecting, grabbed one of Kenma’s hands. Lightly prying it off the Gameboy, he pulled Kenma to his feet and started walking down the hall that lead to the first-year dorms. Hinata fumbled for the keys, dropped them at least once, and eventually got the door open, but he never let go of Kenma’s hand. Giving Kenma a way to keep himself grounded because he knew if Hinata let go now, he would surely float away and never come down again.

“ _Ojama shimasu._ ” Kenma mumbled as Hinata pulled him through the doorway. Having at least as much presence of mine to still remember his manners, while he also toed off his shoes. Hinata guided him towards the only clean spot in his room, which happened to be his bed and settled him there lightly. Kenma’s hands were now resting lax on his knees, Hinata still holding one, his Gameboy is the other. Tilting the screen up, he said in a small, barely audible voice, “I’ve caught more Pokémon than I can count. Why… why can’t I catch you?”

The screen suddenly went black with a slight click, Hinata having switched the game off and gently taking it from Kenma’s hand. But he could still see the Staraptor as clear as day. The image having burned do deeply into his mind, tying itself the events of earlier, that Kenma couldn’t have forgotten it. Not even if he suddenly lost all his memories. That image and those sounds would always remain.

“Kenma. What happened?” Hinata shuffled around until he was between Kenma’s knees and his face directly in Kenma’s line of sight. Close enough to force Kenma to look at him and not around the room or at the ground, yet far enough back so as not to be seen as being overly confrontational. Kenma knew Hinata wanted answers and wanted them now, but was being as considerate as he could be of Kenma’s shy nature. Letting Kenma know he was there for him, but letting him have his space to tell him in his own time.

Kenma just stared into Hinata’s face, full of outward anxiety and apprehension. Hinata’s eyes were searching his face. Trying to gather any clues as to what was happening behind Kenma’s perpetual mask of apathy and indifference. Usually no one could tell what was going on under the surface with him, only Hinata and Kuroo had ever been able to discern his true feelings, usually without even having to ask.

The longer that Kenma stared at Hinata’s face, the harder it was getting to breathe. Hinata’s look of concern. The fact that there was no one else around. No longer having a game to distract his thoughts. The compilation of these factors was bringing everything that had happened into razor sharp focus. How was he going to be able to say this without completely breaking down?

Kenma tried to swallow past the ever-growing lump in his throat, but finding that it had lodged itself right in the middle of his now itchy throat. Kenma opened his mouth, not to speak, but because breathing through his nose wasn’t bringing in enough air to quench the burning in his lungs. Kenma licked his lips, tried to speak, but found his mouth had now gone dry as the Gobi Desert. Kenma cleared his throat and licked his lips trying to get his communications system back online with his brain.

“I … I went back to my room after class. I have been having a hard time with my game design project and I wanted to bounce some ideas off Kuroo, but he was already there…” O _h God_! “He was already there with someone.”

Hinata tilted his head to the side, reminding Kenma that Hinata’s really did look and act like a puppy sometimes. His perpetually unruly orange hair shuffling to the side following the movement, he looked away from Kenma for a moment, seeming to try and choose his words carefully.

“But, but you’ve walked in on Kuroo and girls before, right? And isn’t he dating Suzuki-san right now? So, it isn’t too out of this world to accidentally walk in on them together.” Hinata searched Kenma’s face again. Looking for conformation or denial of his conclusion of the events. When he didn’t get a response, “Why is this time any different?” Hinata gently prodded.

“It, it wasn’t Suzuki-san…” Kenma’s hands had started to sweat and his fingers starting to tremble lightly. Traveling up his arms and throughout the rest of his body until Kenma though his teeth would start clacking together with the force of his shaking. “It was … a guy.” As Kenma squeezed his eyes shut, he felt more silent tears spill down his cheeks as he finally said the words.

Kenma heard a breath being sucked in harshly, realizing it was Hinata and not his own soul leaving his body.

“ _Oh Kenma_ …” Hinata’s voice broke on a hitched sob. The sound striking at Kenma’s heart, or at least the place where his heart used to be. Kenma couldn’t have blinked fast enough to catch his friend’s movements as he lurched from the floor to wrap his small arms around Kenma, trapping him in a tight hug. The sudden movement forcing all the remaining air out of Kenma’s lungs.

“I’m so, _so_ sorry Kenma!” Hinata had started to make broad circles across Kenma’s back in what seemed to be an attempt to sooth him, murmuring platitudes and words of support in his ear, even though he couldn’t comprehend what he was saying.

As Kenma sat on his friend’s bed, he knew that he should be feeling better. Comforted. Most normal people sought the comfort of others when they were down and broken. Usually feeling better after having expressed their feelings and receiving that comfort in return. However, Kenma just felt cold. Cold and numb, and just, _so damn tired!_

The weight of carrying a flame for his best friend but having to keep it hidden. Having to put on a brave face when he was introduced to Kuroo’s girlfriends and flings. Living with the one thing he had always wanted but could never have, and now never would because Kuroo didn’t even want him, were all crumbling around his ears.

The mask he kept so perfectly in place cracking more and more, deep fissures forming, the red-hot lava of his emotions spilling out. Kenma’s hands rose to fist themselves into Hinata’s t-shirt, the soft fabric crushing easily under his fingers. His breaths coming in shallow pants now, choking through the pain in his head and his heart. Burying his face in Hinata’s shoulder, Kenma opened his throat and released a soul-shattering scream into his friend’s shoulder, as his last barriers broke and the floodgates opened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh you guys! The responses I'm getting are literally setting my heart alight with fulfillment! I really want to know what you guys thought of this chapter since Pokemon was such a big art of my childhood and I want to make sure I did it justice! ALSO, I have started the storyboard for my next story but I wanted to get everyone's opinion. Plot: Shimizu and Yachi have been together for a few years and they want to start a family. Hinata offers to become a donor (because he has loved Yachi since high school). Shimizu died (I'M SORRY!!!!) and Hinata offers to take care of Yachi and the baby. Please, please, please let me know your thoughts, because I think this would be interesting to write but I want to see if people would actually read it.


	4. Scars to Your Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata POV and confessions
> 
>  
> 
> Reference song- Scars to Your Beautiful - Alessia Cara

Hinata felt Kenma pull back from him, his breathing calmer, sobs no longer wracking his small body. Kenma’s eyes were red but dry now. He must have run out of tears at some point, but the ones that had been shed had left dried white, salty trails down his cheeks. Kenma looked utterly exhausted and broken, yet his fingers still had enough strength to cling to the front of Hinata’s shirt. As though that was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Hey Kenma,” Hinata gently pulled Kenma’s chin up to meet his eyes, “You look exhausted, how about you try and get some sleep?” Hinata gestured with his head towards the pillows at the top of his bed, giving Kenma a gentle push in that direction. Kenma went with the movement without fighting putting up a fight. Pushing some dirty clothes, loose pencils and paper, and an old empty ramen cup onto the floor, Hinata pulled the comforter back for Kenma to shuffle under it.

Once he had been settled under the poofy, navy blue blanket, Hinata peeled Kenma’s fingers from his shirt and pulled the covers up to his chin, pushing a few stray ombre hairs away from his face. As Hinata moved to go sit at his desk, Kenma’s hand shot out and clamped onto Hinata’s wrist. Glancing back at his friend, Hinata noticed that Kenma’s golden, cat-like eyes had peeled so wide that they were now twice their normal size. And what Hinata saw in them had his heart clenching because out of those feline-like eyes shone an emotion he had never seen in his friend’s face before; Hinata saw fear.

“Shoyo…” Kenma whispered, his throat completely shot as though he had swallowed gravel. “Shoyo, please don’t leave me!” Kenma’s lower lip quivered as his hand on Hinata’s wrist started to shake again. Hinata lightly placed his other hand on top of the hand that was gripping his wrist and gave the small boy a watery smile. Pulling back a corner of the covers and climbing in next to Kenma, Hinata took his friend’s hand from his wrist and held it tenderly in his own, intertwining their fingers.

“Never” Hinata whispered, bringing his lips to the blonde’s forehead. “Now. Sleep, Kenma.” Kenma snuggled as close to Hinata as possible, like a kitten seeking the warmth and security only its mother could provide. Hinata glanced at the clock on his bedside table. 3 o’clock. If Kenma got out of class around 1:30 and Hinata got out around 2, that meant Kenma had cried for almost an hour straight. No wonder he’s completely exhausted! But then again, a really good cry was always exhausting afterwards.

As Hinata felt Kenma’s breathing slow to a steady pace, he thought back to when Kenma had first told him that he was in love with Kuroo. _Well actually, I confessed to Kenma that I was in love with Kageyama first._

_***_

He and Kenma had been having a sleep over at Hinata’s house. Since Kenma lived in Tokyo and Hinata was in Torono Town, the difference between the two cities was about two and a half hours by train. Not an unbearable distance, but it was just easier if they stayed over for the night at one boy’s house or the other.

“I … I have something to tell you. And … and I just hope you don’t hate me.” Hinata had decided that he had to tell somebody about what he was feeling. It wasn’t in his nature to be reserved. He could barely contain his energy on the volleyball court, let alone when he wasn’t already expending energy on some activity or another. And since Kenma was his closest friend, he felt he could trust him with what he was about to say. _Please, please just don’t hate me!_

Glancing up from his game, Kenma had looked at him with the same mask of apathy that Hinata had become so familiar with. Usually when Hinata talked to Kenma, he never glanced up from whatever game he was playing, unless it was really important. Kenma must have sensed that this conversation was going to be different than any of their past ones. Ones about their childhoods, their hometowns, their school subjects and how their teachers were unfair for giving homework over the weekends. Even ones about volleyball, which made up about half of all their conversations alone.

“Okay” Kenma prodded, unwrapping his arms from around his knees and setting his game aside.

Hinata had started to fidget where he was sitting, suddenly feeling very antsy; unable to sit still. He stood abruptly and began to pace the room, thinking that now he had started this conversation, _how on Earth do I actually do this!?_

Kenma just sat on the guest futon on the floor watching Hinata pace, like a tiger at the zoo. Five minutes later, interlaced with multiple attempts at stopping and opening his mouth and yet nothing coming out, Kenma stood up from the floor and crossed the room to Hinata. Stopping his frantic pacing and turning Hinata to face him.

“Shoyo, you are one of my best friends. Nothing you could say or do would make me change the way I see you. You were Hinata Shoyo yesterday, you are Hinata Shoyo today, and after saying whatever it is you feel you need to tell me, you will still be Hinata Shoyo. Sensational decoy, middle blocker, freak spiker, and one of my closest friends. So please, just say what you want to say.” As Kenma dropped his arms back down to his side, Hinata just stared back at Kenma, completely baffled. That was the longest string of words that Hinata had ever heard Kenma speak in the year that he had known him.

“Umm … Uh, okay” Hinata stuttered. “Well, you see … it’s like … it’s like this. I think I may have f-feelings for someone. But I don’t know. I guess I wanted to talk to you about it and see what you thought.” Hinata glanced down at his feet.

“Okay, what do you want to ask me exactly?” Kenma just continued to stare at him, head now tilted slightly to the side.

“Well, I guess my question is… have you ever been in love?” Hinata glanced a look at Kenma when he didn’t answer right away. Something flashed in Kenma’s eyes that Hinata could not recognize. The closest thing Hinata could liken it to was the look your face displayed when your mom caught you with your hand in the cookie jar. Fear, apprehension, guilt? But as fast as it appeared, it was gone. 

“Yes… yes I have. I am.” Kenma mumbled under his breath.

Hinata breathed a little easier. He had asked Kenma that question on the possible off chance that he had been in love before, but he had completely expected him to say no. Kenma liked to be alone, and didn’t really interact with people easily. So, the fact that there was someone that Kenma valued above anyone else, floored him.

“WOW! I mean that’s great! But … but I’m sure our situations are still different.” At least he and Kenma were on a little bit of the same footing, even if the people they each liked happened to be different genders. _But at least he has some idea._ “I mean the person I like … they … they’re …” Hinata just couldn’t seem to get the words out of his throat, over his tongue, and past his teeth.

Hinata almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand land on his shoulder firmly. Kenma’s face was right in front of his now, his mask of indifference still there but his eyes now showed a slight hint of understanding in their depths.

“I think I know what you want to say Shoyo. It’s Kageyama isn’t it?”

Hinata blushed a shade of red that could have rivaled his hair on the intensity scale, covering his whole face, his ears, and down onto his neck. He could even feel his fingertips getting warmer.

“How? How did you know?” he mumbled quietly.

Hinata felt a slight _twack_ against his forehead and looked at Kenma incredulously, just as Kenma was pulling the finger he had used to tap against Hinata’s head back towards himself. “Shoyo. I’ve known you for a while now. I’ve seen you two together. You’re like a battery combination between a pitcher and a catcher in baseball. In perfect sync. More often than not knowing what the other is thinking or going to do without even saying a word.”

“Yes, you two are more competitive with each other than may be healthy. You even bicker like an old married couple when you mess up being synchronized or get in trouble, trying to put the blame on the other person.” If possible, Hinata blushed even harder, completely convinced he now looked like a mutant tomato that had grown arms and legs.

“But, when no one is looking, your eyes are always following and looking for him. When you are together, you hope you can look cool and not make any mistakes in front of them. And when you do mess up they either scold you, or try to make you feel better. But you just want them to leave you alone because you don’t want them to see the weaker, flawed you. But when you are apart, they are all you can think about. _What are they doing? When can I see them again? What are they thinking about?_ And you hope and even pray that they are thinking about you like that too and then feel like you’re drowning when you remind yourself that that is impossible.”

Hinata wasn’t sure when Kenma had stopped discussing his and Kageyama’s particular situation, but he could sense that, at least towards the end, Kenma was probably speaking from personal experience. Kenma’s eyes were different now. Instead of looking into Hinata’s eyes to gauge his responses, he looked through Hinata. Almost as if recalling long ago, nostalgic memories. Memories that probably brought so much happiness, but also laced heavily with a pain that Hinata knew all too well.

“Oh, and when Kageyama praises you, your eyes shine like the sun. It’s a bit obvious and I’m surprised that Kageyama hasn’t picked up on it yet.” Hinata let out a wry chuckle which essentially was just a breath of air forced out really fast. His feet shuffled against each other, twisting his socks around his toes, his hand reached up to scratch at the back of his head nervously.

“But I mean Kageyama’s a guy. Most people think that if a guy likes another guy that it’s weird or wrong, but I really, really like him, but I also really don’t want you to hate me. I mean, you’re probably normal; probably liking a cute, small girl who bakes cookies, and has a nice smile, with a pretty name like Izumi or Yui and…” Hinata was running out of breath at this point in the conversation, but he was afraid that if he stopped to take a breath he wouldn’t be able to continue. He felt a hand slap over his mouth and took a deep breath in through his nose, since his mouth was more or less inoperable at the moment.

“There is no such thing as _normal_ , Shoyo. One person’s definition of the term is going to be completely different than anyone else’s so it is ridiculous to try and hold yourself to anyone’s standards but your own! Living your life, the way you want to, in whatever way makes you happy, that is what normal is. And like I said…” Kenma stepped into Hinata, wrapping him in a tight hug. “You are one of my best friends. Nothing you have said, or could say could make me feel differently about you.”

Hinata felt his body go lax. Releasing a breath deep from inside his body he hadn’t realized he was holding until now. A full body shudder wracking his through him, as the heavy weight he had been carrying around was suddenly much lighter now that he had someone to share the load with. “Th-Thank you, Kenma.”

Kenma had pushed back from Hinata at that point, running a small hand down the side of his slightly red face, and headed back to the guest futon on the floor. Hinata gave a small chuckle before heading back to his own bed, grabbing the latest issue of _Shounen Jump_ from his desk. Flipping through until he found the latest installment of Dragon Ball Super.

“Oh yeah!” Hinata practically jumped out of bed, tossing the magazine aside, when he turned to look at Kenma on the floor. The young blonde was already completely engrossed in his game. “So, who is it that you like? Tell me about them!”

Without missing a beat, or even looking up from his game, Kenma replied “Well, to be honest, the person I like is tall, with ridiculous hair and a terrible personality, and loves sports, especially volleyball. And …” _tik, tik, tik_. Only the sound of the buttons on Kenma’s game filled the otherwise silent space.

“And …?” Hinata prompted.

“And the last time I checked, the name Kuroo Tetsuro wouldn’t exactly be classified as a cute name.” If Kenma had bothered to look up from his game for even a moment during his own confession, he would have seen that Hinata’s jaw had just hit the floor.

***

Kenma hadn’t spoken more than maybe 10 words over the course of the next three weeks following that conversation. Seeming to have used up almost his monthly quota of words in the span of an hour. But Hinata hadn’t cared if Kenma had or hadn’t spoken to him at that point. He was just glad that they were still friends. Especially since they now had even more in common than either of them had thought.

Hinata stroked the top and back of Kenma’s head, which had settled in next to his shoulder, and thought about how he had been so lucky in life. Not only did Kenma not hate him for being gay (or bi, he still wasn’t sure), but he even had helped Hinata when he decided he wanted to confess to Kageyama when he was in his second year.

The words that Kenma had offered still rang in his head, _“I know you’re scared Shoyo, but you have been wanting this for a long time, and you said you had decided it was now or never. And if my assumptions are correct, he feels the same way. There is no way that he will turn you down. You can do this, I believe in you, and I love you!”_

And Kenma had been right. He and Kageyama had been together for almost two years now; in fact, their anniversary was tomorrow. And while it had not been exactly easy, with him attending college for Sports Management and Kageyama being drafted to Team Japan for Men’s Volleyball, he wouldn’t have had it any other way. He was so incredibly happy. He just wished that Kenma had been able to find that same happiness with Kuroo.

As Kenma’s breathing became deeper and more even, Hinata could feel his eyelids grow itchy and heavy. Each second that passed becoming harder and harder to keep his eyes open. Shuffling further under the covers, Hinata drifted off to sleep. His arms wrapped protectively around the broken-hearted boy in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who continues to follow the story! Your support has been invaluable during this process! So for those who provided feedback on my second story line suggestion from the last chapter, I have made a few changes. The main characters will now be Ryu and Yachi, and he will be in the army and an outdoor sports instructor in his off time. Thoughts?


	5. For Your Entertainment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference Song: For Your Entertainment - Adam Lambert

Kenma must have fallen asleep following his breakdown because he was being pulled from the warm dark of sleep’s embrace at the moment. He could hear a hushed voice somewhere in the room, but couldn’t place who it belonged to or the words said voice was uttering.

Burying his head deeper into the pillow, he desperately tried to chase after the languid fingers of sleep that were continually uncurling from around his body and mind. As consciousness began to invade his groggy mind in earnest, Kenma began to gain a sense of where he was.

Deeply sniffing into the pillow that was pressed against his face, he inhaled the citrusy tang of the shampoo that Hinata always used. _Oh yeah, I fell asleep in Shoyo’s room_. Kenma had always thought it quite amusing that the sunny ball of energy used a scent that corresponded with his hair color. _Maybe that’s his roommate talking, doesn’t sound too familiar though._

Kenma burrowed his hand under the covers, seeking out Hinata’s warmth, mainly to tell him to make his roommate shut up. However, his hand was only met with cold, empty space no matter where he searched. Tilting his head to the side, Kenma was able to breathe freely again. Blinking a few times to clear the remaining dregs of sleep from his eyes, he glanced towards where the voice was coming from and discovered it was in fact Hinata speaking. But his voice was low and strained, which accounted for the confusion as to who was speaking earlier.

Rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand, Kenma registered that Hinata was speaking into the small rectangle of infinite information that seemed to be an extension of everyone’s physical being nowadays, their cellphone. _Must be FaceTime-ing someone._

“I know Kageyama, and I’m sorry but…” Kenma could hear a slightly raised, tinny voice coming from the phone’s speaker, which must have been on the lowest volume setting, as Hinata pulled it farther away from his face. _What are they fighting about now?_

Hinata was looking dejected, shoulders slumped forward, one arm wrapped around the other that held the phone out in front of him, cradling the limb closer to his body. “But Kageyama, I told you why I can’t go out tonight! I know it has been over a month since we’ve seen each other because of my classes and your team schedule. Trust me, I want to see you more than anything but, …. Kenma needs me tonight.” Hinata had dropped his chin to his chest at this point.

Shifting quietly on the bed, Kenma sat up and pulled the covers down his legs. As much as he really didn’t want to go back to his room and deal with everything, he couldn’t take up any more of Hinata’s time today than he already had. He knew that Hinata and Kageyama could only see each other infrequently. The strain and demands of college and professional sports very rarely allowing time for each other. _And their anniversary is tomorrow._

Scooting gingerly off the bed, his bare feet landed with a soft poof on the floor. Padding slowly over towards Hinata, he listened for the most opportune moment to insert himself into the conversation and excuse himself. He really wanted to take a shower, maybe the water would help wash everything away.

“But Oikawa went through a lot of trouble to get us the tickets. That club is really popular, not to mention we are still underage. I know Kenma needs you. I get it, I really do but… I need you too.” Kageyama’s voice had changed from before. Where it was loud and commanding before, now it was quiet and resigned. Like he already knew that he was going to lose this battle, no matter what he said.

Kenma reached up and tugged on Hinata’s sleeve, the boy spinning around quickly, obviously having been surprised by Kenma’s presence being next to him instead of sleeping in the bed.

“It’s okay Shoyo. There is no need to hang back on my account. I know you want to see him. I’m just gonna head home.” Before waiting for Hinata’s response, Kenma bend down and began shoving his feet into his shoes. He could hear Hinata shuffling to follow him, stuttering out a response. Trying to converse with Kageyama and him at the same time.

“NO, Kenma, I’m not gonna leave you, that would make me a terrible… wait” Hinata abruptly stopped talking and turned his full attention to Kageyama on his phone screen. “Kageyama is Oikawa there? Let me talk to him!” There was a shuffling sound on the other end of the phone, the wind of movement being picked up by the phone’s microphone Kenma assumed, as the phone was being passed from Kageyama to Oikawa.

“Hey _chibi-chan_ , what’s up?” A snarky, confident voice remarked through the phone.

“Oikawa,” Hinata must have had something really important to say, since he seemed to have let the _chibi-chan_ comment slide, not even with a different intonation in his voice. Kenma was bent down tying the laces on his sneakers; _Over, under, around and through, Meet Mr. Bunny Rabbit, pull and through_ ; the long strands of ombre hair slightly obscuring his vision before standing up again once his shoes were tied. “Is there any possible way that you could get another ticket for tonight!?” Hinata pleaded.

“Hmmm… I don’t know _shrimpy_ , it was a lot of trouble to get these tickets. They cost a lot of money and I had to even beg certain people, on my knees mind you, to get them. You would have to owe me….”

“HEY!” A third, deep voice vibrated through the phone’s speaker, causing it to crackle slightly. Kenma moved to look over Hinata’s shoulder when the sounds of a scuffle and multiple voices filled the room, via the phone.

The man he saw on the screen now wasn’t Oikawa, with his trademark smirk, chocolate brown hair, and his face that seemed to fit perfectly into the Golden Rule for attractiveness. But another young man with black hair and a facial expression so intense that it could have even the most hardened Yakuza shaking in his boots. _Iwaizumi_.

“Don’t let _Shitty-kawa_ fool you. He got those tickets for free from a guy that has taken a fancy to him.” Kenma could hear Oikawa’s loud whine of ' _I_ _wa-chan! Mean_!' in the background. “We had another friend bail, so you are more than welcome to bring someone else along, Hinata-kun.”

“BWAH! That’s great, thank you Iwaizumi-senpai!!!” Hinata was so excited that he bowed to the man on his phone screen. “Is Kageyama still there?” More shuffling, more shouting between Oikawa and Iwaizumi in the background, and then Kageyama was on the screen again.

“So, what’s the plan?” Kageyama’s hand was running through his short black hair, pushing it back slightly only for it to fall back in place again once his hand had passed through the strands. His face seemed to contain a small glimmer of hope, easily seen by the way his eyes seemed to be glued to Hinata through the screen, the deep blue in them shimmering brightly.

“Everything is okay now. I’m gonna bring Kenma with us tonight! Let’s say to meet there in about … what time is it now? 8pm?!” Hinata turned to face Kenma, “I can’t believe we slept for five hours!!” Hinata said and a bright, yet incredulous smile spread across his young face. “Okay if it’s eight right now, let’s meet there in about an hour, hour and a half?” At this, a small grin pulled at the edges of Kageyama’s mouth.

“Okay, see you and Kenma then. I love you Shoyo.” Kageyama’s cheeks took on a slight blush and looked around behind him as he said the same words that, Kenma was certain, he had said many times before. Just not in front of so many other people. Hinata’s eyes flashed, _just like I said they do when you get praised_ , and his face seemed to relax into an even brighter, easy smile.

“I love you too Tobio. See you soon.” Hinata tapped the small red button on the screen of his phone to end the call and practically sprinted straight to his closet, rummaging through it. Kenma was torn between wanting to ask Hinata what he was up to, and just heading back to his room to take that shower. _And then maybe go back to sleep for the next year._

Kenma was shaken from his thoughts as a small pair of black jeans settled over his head, followed by a grey tank top and an olive colored jacket/ blazer/ _thing_. Kenma pulled the pants off his head, sending his hair into complete disarray, laying the bundle that had been tossed at him onto the bed.

“Shoyo, what are you doing?” Kenma picked up his game from the bed side table, purposefully NOT looking at the screen, and shoved the console into the back pocket of his pants.

“Hurry up and put those on!” Hinata had pulled out a pair of blue jeans, similar to the ones he had thrown at Kenma except Hinata’s had a small rip in the left knee, and was trying to shove his legs into them as fast as he could.

Kenma just stood there and took in the small hurricane that was tearing across the small dorm room. Hinata grabbed a shirt off the floor, giving it a deep sniff, crinkling his nose up, and tossing it aside to perform the same procedure on another shirt, and then another. _Does he ever do laundry?_

“Come on Kenma, if we don’t get a move on we’ll be late.” Hinata, having decided on an emerald green button down, short sleeved shirt and black pullover.

“Late for what?” Kenma was still confused as to what his friend was planning, and how exactly it involved Kenma wearing Hinata’s clothes. While he and Hinata were very similar in shape and size, Kenma was still a bit larger overall. So, while most of his clothes fit loosely on his body, on the few occasions he had been forced to wear Hinata’s clothes, they had always been skin tight.

The younger boy was now swiping a deodorant stick under his arms and spraying his chest with some kind of spray, _Apollo by Axe_ , it said on the can. How fitting that this energetic ball of fire used a body spray named after the sun god from Roman mythology.

The flavor profile of the spray diffused through the room, filling his sinuses. The herby aroma of lavender, the warmth of amber, the musk of sandalwood, and the tang of mandarin orange. _He has to have that citrus in everything, doesn’t he?_

Hinata now stood in front of the mirror on the back of the door, running his hands through his hair a few times, then glanced at him through the mirror. “I have an idea on how to cheer you up. Or at least get your mind off things for a little bit. We’re going out!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is a bit short, I promise to make up for it in the next chapter!!! And again, please feel free to tell me if I made any mistakes and I love reading people's reactions, so comment away!


	6. Trying Not to Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo POV
> 
> Reference song: Trying Not to Love You - Nickleback

Today had just been one massive clusterfuck of infinitely sized, shitty proportions.

Kuroo settled back against the plethora of pillows on his queen-sized bed, the white, fluffy cubes squishing down under his weight. _Why did I slept with Nowaki?_

Leaning to the side and popping the mini fridge open, he swiped a clear plastic bottle filled with yellow-ish fluid. Cracking open the lemon-lime Gatorade, he took long, sucking pulls at the sweet nectar. Gasping lightly for air after he had downed over half the bottle in one go, he glanced out the window as the early evening sun trickled into the room around the flimsy, off white curtain and ruminated back on everything that had happened today.

***

It had all started when the lesson plan he had turned in last week had come back with more red marks on it than a kid with the chicken pox. He had worked really hard on that lesson plan about density too. He even had created an activity using dry ice which he was sure the kids would have loved and would have really made the content understandable.

But apparently, his professor was more concerned that his lesson plan fit into the standards and got the kids prepared for the test, rather than giving the kids truly meaningful learning experiences. _What crap!_

Then his mom had called, _joy_. Not that he didn’t love his mom, he really did, they had just never had an easy relationship. His mom was the typical academically minded, helicopter parent. Less than perfect was not acceptable and all your time should be devoted to studying. She thought his fascination with volleyball was just a phase and he had no real future in it.

She had been wrong about volleyball being a phase, he still loved playing immensely. It was great exercise and it helped him keep a level head. He had even been good enough to get onto Waseda’s Volleyball team playing the same position he did in high school at Nekoma, middle blocker.

And while she had been right though about him not making volleyball his career choice, she hadn’t been thrilled with his actual choice of becoming a teacher either though. She had always been pushing him to be a doctor, or a lawyer. To make use of that education he had been so lucky to have received.

On top of that, she was constantly hounding him to find someone and get married so she could see her grandchildren. As if trying to juggle not only a career she didn’t fully approve of, and continuing to play a sport she thought he was wasting his time on, now she also wanted him to find time in his busy days to try and date someone?

To say their relationship was strained, was maybe a bit of an understatement.

But the reason she had called today was not to make some sort of complaint about his life choices, but invite him over for dinner next weekend. She had said it was because she missed him and wanted to have a family dinner, just the three of them. Him, her, and his dad. The quintessential nuclear family.

However, he could sense an ulterior motive. She had asked too nicely, making sure that he was free before demanding he join them. And she only got like that when she wanted one thing. One thing which was becoming more and more frequently requested lately.

She was trying to set him up on a marriage interview. The fact that she had suggested that they all meet at a restaurant for dinner just helped confirm his theory. _Honestly, could she have scheduled a more horrible time!_

Next weekend was the start of the spring tournament for the men’s volleyball team and many other college teams in the area. And the captain, a fourth year named Ito, had made it clear that if members wanted to continue to play on the team, let alone be starters, they had to be present at each game of the tournament. And Kuroo had just been moved up to be a starting member on the team, after two long years of hard practice. He could _not_ miss that tournament!

He, of course, promised his mother he would be there for the dinner, if for no other reason than to be able to hang up as soon as possible. Otherwise she was going to try and get a concrete answer out of him, which in this instance could be nothing but an agreement to the invite. Which would lead to him sitting awkwardly through another “surprise” marriage interview with some woman his mother had deemed an appropriate match for him.

He would just have to call her at the last minute, like he had done for the last two dinner invites, and tell her that some really important school work came up. If he played his cards right, that he needed to get a good grade on the assignment and would be working all through the night, but promised to be at the next one, she usually let him off with only a 20-minute lecture about his disrespectful behavior. But she always said she understood, school comes first.

Always.

After hanging up with his mother, Kuroo had gone into the kitchen to rummage through the cupboards, seeing if he could procure anything that wasn’t ramen or mac & cheese. There wasn’t anything that didn’t fit into those categories, however. _We need to go grocery shopping for food that isn’t essentially syrofoam._

It wasn’t like the dorm didn’t have a cafeteria, but since they had been able to get one of the dorms with a private kitchen, he had thought it would be a good idea to try and cook sometimes. Build up their skill base so that when they got out of college and have to live the bachelor life, they wouldn’t die of starvation or malnourishment.

As he closed the cupboard and was about to head down to the afore mentioned dining hall, a knock at the front door stopped him in his tracks. Glancing at the clock, which stated it was 12:30, Kuroo wondered who could be at the door. _Kenma shouldn’t be done with class for another hour or two_ (the same was true for all of Kuroo’s friends), _not to mention he has a key. And the floor supervisor doesn’t do dorm checks until curfew time_. Who the hell was at his door?

He opened the door, albeit a little hesitantly, and saw the familiar figure of Isaka Nowaki on the other side of it. Only reaching up to the middle of Kuroo’s chest, with blue eyes and blonde hair, he was once again taken aback by the man in front of him.

***

The first time he had met Nowaki, had been last year in their methods class for high school science educators. Kuroo had noticed his blonde hair right away, since it was a rarity in Japan (unless you were a delinquent or foreign), and went to sit next to him out of curiosity.

When Kuroo had plopped down into the empty seat to the guys right, the boy turned to look at him, his small mouth already open in a greeting before he could even see Kuroo. However, once he registered the image of the man who had just sat down, all movement stopped, his eyes going wide, his smile faltering. His blue eyes, piercingly bright and intense, roamed hungrily all over Kuroo’s features from top to bottom. Openly admiring what he saw. _If he had golden eyes instead of blue, he could almost be twins with …_

Kuroo had become used to that of course. He wasn’t going to toot his own horn, but if he had to say, he was decently attractive. With hazel eyes and jet black hair that looked like he styled it to look like he had just rolled out of bed. When, in actuality, it _was_ just bed head. He now stood at just over 6 feet tall and due to the excessive volleyball practice, he wasn’t ripped per say, but he had solid muscle tone.

Kuroo cleared his throat after a few minutes, and it seemed to snap the boy back to reality.

“Oh gosh! Sorry, hi! You are just really attractive and I couldn’t help myself.” The boy confessed a bit sheepishly. “But anyway, I’m Isaka Nowaki, but everyone just calls me Nowaki so feel free.” Kuroo chuckled low in his gut, at least this guy was honest.

He was bright and bubbly, and had stuck his hand out to shake Kuroo’s. Which of course he took, Nowaki’s small hand engulfed by Kuroo’s broad large one.

“Nice to meet you Nowaki, I’m Kuroo Tetsuro.” He didn’t tell Nowaki explicitly what to call him, instead leaving it up to him to decide what he wanted to call him. Mostly, people just called him Kuroo. Which could be classified as normal and polite, but Kuroo didn’t really care. Never having been a stickler for normalcy or what was polite by society’s standards. But he wasn’t going to correct people and have them call him something that they may not be comfortable using.

They didn’t have much time to chat though, since the lecture was starting. But throughout the lesson they kept whispering to each other out the sides of their mouths. What other classes they were taking? What their majors were? What dorms they were living in? The class had gone a lot quicker than Kuroo though it would have. And the rest of the classes that they shared after that became that much more enjoyable, now that he had a friend to share in the experiences with him.

***

Over the course of the year, he and Nowaki had become close friends. Nowaki was studying to be able to teach physics and earth science, while Kuroo was looking into becoming a life science and chemistry teacher. So, it worked out quite well when they needed to write lesson plans together. Bouncing ideas and activities off of each other since they each specialized in different content areas, providing encouragement and possible changes based on what was being taught.

But, Nowaki usually texted before he came over. Rationalizing that it would be silly to come all the way over from his dorm to find out that Kuroo wasn’t home, and then walk all the way back to his dorm on the other side of campus. So, the fact that Nowaki was now standing in front of his door, with no prior notice, was out of character for him.

“Hey Nowaki, you here to work on physics or geology?” Kuroo ribbed as he gestured for Nowaku to follow him inside.

It had turned out that Nowaki had come over to not talk about lesson plans. Or homework for class. Or even to see if he wanted to hang out. No, the real reason for the unexpected visit had been much more serious. _Confession serious._

In all honesty, Kuroo should have seen that coming. He was just too much of a denier sometimes that he missed subtle hints. Nowaki had been asking him to hang out more and more outside of class, going to different clubs, and he even came to see some of Kuroo’s practices and games. He had wanted to start writing more and more lesson plans together with Kuroo, and do homework together, and study together.

_Yeah, really should have seen that coming from a mile away._

So, when Nowaki had come in and sat on his couch, silent for almost 10 minutes straight, Kuroo knew something was up. Maybe he was in trouble and wanted Kuroo’s help. Maybe he had missed a huge assignment and needed some tutoring type help. Maybe there was someone Nowaki liked and he wanted Kuroo’s advice. Maybe Kuroo should just hurry up and break the silence.

“Is there anything wr- “

“I’m in love with you.”

Neither boy moved. Kuroo continued to stare at Nowaki, silently wishing him to raise his head, to explain, but Nowaki only stared at the ground. It wasn’t like Kuroo didn’t like Nowaki. He was a good friend, and a great classmate, especially on the days when Kuroo was too hungover to take notes. However, he just didn’t think of Nowaki that way.

“Uhhh … I don’t know exactly what to say.” Replied Kuroo truthfully. His hand going up to rub at the back of his neck. The small dark hairs at his nape prickling the edge of his hand.

Nowaki let out a slight sigh that ended with a chuckle, plopping down onto the couch and looked up at Kuroo with a gentle, sad smile. “It’s okay Kuroo. I know you don’t love me back. I know you actually have feelings for someone else.”

Kuroo could feel a slight blush rise on his cheeks, even as he tried to deny it. “I, I don’t know what you’re talking about Nowaki. I don’t like anyone in particular.” With each passing second, Kuroo’s blush began to travel outwards from his cheeks to fill out the rest of his face. Seeping into his hair line and down his throat. Nowaki just looked at him knowingly.

“That’s okay if you aren’t ready to admit it out loud Kuroo. But I can see it in the way you act, talk, and even think about this “person”.” Nowaki had even thrown his hands up in the air to put quotations around the word “person”. The blush on Kuroo’s face began to bleed out incredibly fast, making him look as white as a sheet instead of a cherry. _How could Nowaki know about that._ He was always so careful to not let anyone know about that, especially when he was around that certain person.

Kuroo took a step back, seriously contemplating how long it would take him to run out of the room, down the stairs, and out the front door. How long he could run until his legs gave out? How far he would have to go until nobody knew who he was and he could just live in peace, alone with his thoughts and unrequited feelings?

But Nowaki had been able to figure out, possibly from his body language, what Kuroo was thinking. So, he quickly stood and held his arms out in front of him. Approaching Kuroo as one would a deer in the forest. Wanting to get close to the creature, without scaring it away.

“How… how did you find out? I’ve been so careful.” Kuroo was panicking, his breaths were becoming shorter, his eyes darted between Nowaki and the door at an increasing rate.

“Kuroo,” Nowaki said firmly. “I have no intention of telling anyone about your secret. It is your secret to hold on to until you are comfortable telling others. But can I ask you two things?” Nowaki was now standing in front of him. Looking very unintimidating with his small stature and kind voice. “And honestly, you don’t even have to answer them if you really don’t want to.” Kuroo felt his shoulders sag a little, as some of the tension he was holding bled out of his limbs.

“O…okay. Sure.” Kuroo’s hands went to cross over his chest. At least this way he could protect himself if the conversation got too personal. Or his arms could hold him together in case he started to break down, because he was now certain that Nowaki knew _everything_.

“I’m pretty sure I know who you are in love with, so first question, why haven’t you told them or made a move on them? Also, tied to that, do you think you ever will?” Nowaki’s voice didn’t hold any trace of condescension or incredulity. Just pure curiosity.

Kuroo took a steadying breath and tried to collect his thoughts. He had never told anyone about who he had feelings for. Not even his other closest friend, Bokuto, and the two of them were thick as thieves. He had heard all about Bokuto’s problems and even about his sex life with Akaashi, but he could never bring himself to tell Bokuto about …

“I have been in love with this person since I was a child.” Kuroo let out a small chuckle as he turned to sink down onto the couch next to Nowaki. Head tilting back to rest against the back of it, completely exposed, body and mind. “For me, it has always been this person. But, even when we were young I always thought something was different about them. They never seemed to be interested in girls or boys, even though they were confessed to on almost a weekly basis. And even when I asked him directly if he liked anyone, he always responded that there wasn’t. I have been toying around with the idea that he may even be asexual for a few years now since I mean, I don’t even think he masturbates. I invited him a lot in high school to watch AV’s with me or with other people but he always declined, or if he did join in, he never participated. Just watching the AV silently. Not even a trace of arousal on his face or in his pants.”

Kuroo didn’t notice that he had stopped using ambiguous pronouns and had only started using he and him. But, Nowaki had picked up on the small hint, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he glanced down at his clasped hands.

“So, in the beginning, before I even knew for sure I was in love with him, I didn’t want make him uncomfortable. Especially if he was asexual. I mean I have been thinking about him like that pretty much since my first wet dream, which had been about him by the way.” _Why on Earth did I say that?_ Now that the words had started pouring out of him, putting the brakes on now would have been like trying to stop the Titanic from ramming into that iceberg when it was only 10 ft. away from it.

“He takes over my dreams at night and is in my every waking thought. I thought it was a great idea to share a room together since he is my best friend but it has been absolute torture. Being with him every day, but not saying anything to him about how much I’m in love with him, not being able to touch him or hold him. It’s just horrible. But I am so afraid that if I tell him then Kenma won’t want even want to be friends anymore and I can’t bear to lose him. OH!” Kuroo slapped his hand to his mouth. Having realized now that while he had been so engrossed in his rant that he had accidentally mentioned Kenma’s name. How could he have been so careless. _Shit_!

A soft chuckle bubbled up from Nowaki, who had sat down next to Kuroo on the couch. “It’s okay Kuroo, I was pretty sure it was Kenma who you were in love with anyway. Most people can tell it from just seeing the two of you together.”

Nowaki slumped back into the cushions, crossing his arms loosely across his chest. “I’m not gonna lie and say that I wish you would just give up on him and see if you can come to love me, but I just can’t do that to you. I want you to be happy. And if Kenma is who makes you happy then I won’t do anything to jeopardize that for you. I just wish Kenma knew how lucky he was to be loved by you.”

Kuroo was seeing Nowaki in kind of a new light now. The unexpected friend who had become such a big part of his life, had confessed to him, been turned down harshly because Kuroo was in love with someone else, and still had enough pride to smile and act like everything was okay. Kuroo raised his hands and scrubbed at his face. He was happy that Nowaki had trusted him enough to come out and confess to him. But no matter how much he wanted to drop these feelings for Kenma, no matter how much he wished he could, he just couldn’t return Nowaki’s feelings.

“I’m just, I’m just really sorry Nowaki. You came all the way here and I end up just being a huge jerk.” Kuroo sighed, suddenly standing up from the couch and walking over towards the fridge. Having sat for too long and some of the tension finally dissipating out of the space, lending the situation to Kuroo needing to move. “You want a beer?”

“No Kuroo, it’s really okay. I knew it was a total longshot that you may even remotely feel the same way for me anyway. But yeah, I’ll take whatever you’ve got.” Kuroo pulled two cold Asahi – Super Dry beers from the fridge. Smiling at the name, since it reminded him of the ace spiker from Karasuno, _I wonder how he’s doing? Is he still dating that Chihuahua sized libero?_

Shaking his head, forcing himself back to the present, he headed back to the couch and handed Nowaki one of the beers. As Kuroo snapped the silver tab on the top of the beer can, _psshht_. white foam dribbled over his fingers. Raising his fingers to his mouth, Kuroo was about to lick them clean when he remembered something.

“Oh yeah, you said you had two questions, right? What’s the other one?” Looking towards his guest, Kuroo popped his index finger in his mouth.

At this, Nowaki took a long drag on the beer. Coughing a little after he had downed about a third of the can. Kuroo had tried to keep the atmosphere light and easy, considering what had just transpired, but it seemed that the blonde had different plans. Nowaki then took a deep breath, set his beer on a coaster on the table, _how considerate_ , and turned to face Kuroo fully.

“Now, I’m just gonna ask this once. You can tell me to go screw myself, or you can choose to never speak to me again. But…” Kuroo could see Nowaki’s adam’s apple bob slightly as he swallowed. “But, would you sleep with me? You can even pretend I’m Kozume-san, I don’t mind. You could wear a blindfold if you want. I just, I just really want to be with you. Even if it’s only once. _Please!_ ” Nowaki bowed his head, his nose almost brushing against the fibers of the seat cushion on the couch.

Kuroo had stopped licking his fingers clean at this point, his pinkie still in his mouth. Just letting the small bubbly liquid that still remained on his fingers slowly cascade down towards his hand and wrist. What was he supposed to say to that? Let alone do about that? Nowaki was a great friend, so he didn’t want to lose his friendship. But he also knew that he had already broken Nowaki’s heart once today, he didn’t want to do it twice in the span of an hour.

Kuroo slowly pulled his finger out of his mouth with a small pop. Kuroo knew that he was never going to be able to tell Kenma how he felt, and there was an infinitely smaller chance that Kenma could ever like him back. It just wasn’t possible.

Kuroo had never slept with a guy before, not that he was opposed to it, the opportunity just never presented itself at the right time. This may be as close to being with Kenma as he ever got, since Kenma and Nowaki were about the same size build, and even had the same color hair. The only difference was their personality, and their eyes. If he wore a blindfold or had Nowaki face away from him, it would almost be like he was …

_NO_! If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.

Kuroo stood up from the couch, leaving his beer on the coffee table in front of him. Turning to look at Nowaki’s slumped, slightly trembling form, Kuroo made his decision.

“Nowaki” Kuroo called gently, taking his chin in his hand and turning it up to look at him. “I’m sorry I can’t return your feelings, I truly am. I sometimes wish I could just forget everything and move on, but it seems I just can’t.” Kuroo dropped his chin and held out his hand to the smaller man. “So, if this is what you truly want, then yes, I will sleep with you. I just want you to be completely sure, and I want you to understand that it’s not going to change my feelings. I might be in love with Kenma, but I will try my best to stay in the moment with you, and I want you to know that if at any point you want to stop I will. Are you okay with that?”

Kuroo’s hand just hung in midair for another full minute or two before Nowaki’s warm fingers slid into his hand. Kuroo turned on his heel and began leading Nowaki towards his room. He really hoped that this wasn’t a huge mistake and everything was going be blown to shit afterwards.

***

Okay, so yeah, maybe sleeping with Nowaki hadn’t been the greatest idea especially as he fingered the growing, swollen flesh on his cheek. _That’s gonna be a nasty bruise._

Bringing the Gatorade back to his mouth, Kuroo’s eyes fluttered shut as the cool, sweet fluid soothed over his raw throat. The sex hadn’t been awful. It hadn’t even been bad. Honestly, it had actually been really fucking good. But Kuroo’s heart just hadn’t been in it, and now that specific organ was paying the price.

His heart was breaking because he had always hoped that Kenma would have been his first. True, he had slept with lots of girls up until this point, but he had still held onto the small shred of hope that the first time he slept with a guy, it would have been with Kenma. Kuroo rubbed at his chest, directly over his heart, because it felt like it was trying to rip its way out of his chest.

Placing the Gatorade back in the mini fridge and flicking the light above his bed off, Kuroo scooted to the end of his bed and looked out his bedroom window to watch the people entering below.

People watching was a favorite past time of his. People in general were just fascinating with their different life stories and wondering about those lives brought Kuroo a lot of joy. He liked to make up stories to describe what he saw going on around him.

One girl had a short sundress and a backpack slung across her shoulder. _Did she just get out of class_? Some guy jumped off his skateboard as he walked into the building. _Wonder how many tricks he can do?_ A group of girls were giggling and laughing, what Kuroo assumed was loudly since he couldn’t hear from the third floor, as they threw their heads back violently. _I wonder if they told a joke and what it was about?_

Two guys, who were walking out of the building and proceeding in the opposite direction from most of the foot traffic, looked like they were going out for the night in their super trendy clothes. One guy had fiery orange hair and the other black and blond strands.

_Wait!_

Kuroo sat up straighter, pressing his nose and cheek against the cool glass so he could see better. That was definitely Hinata and Kenma. The small, fiery haired, middle blocker bounding around his blonde friend, like a chick asking for feed. He was clearly excited about something if Kuroo could see it from the third floor.

Maybe that’s why Kenma hadn’t been home yet, _he was hanging out with Hinata_. Kuroo checked his phone to see if there were any messages from Kenma. He usually always let Kuroo know where he was, on the off chance (more like very often chance) that he got distracted while playing a game and almost forgot where he needed to be or what he needed to do later in the day. _Nothing._

But Kuroo could clearly see that Kenma was going out for the night. Even from his vantage point, he could make out what Kenma was wearing. A green jacket that probably (definitely) amplified his blond hair and golden eyes, and tight black jeans that more than likely (absolutely did) make his small firm butt look even more appealing than it already was.

Kuroo watched them walk to the train station that was at the edge of campus, following them until they disappeared into the underground system. Kuroo released a breath and tilted his head backwards off the window pane, flopping down on his cinnabar colored bedspread.

He shouldn’t care where Kenma went and with whom. He really shouldn’t be acting like this but it was impossible not to have the person you love take up all your available brain capacity.

_Bzzzzt_

Kuroo jerked his head off the bed and lunged for his phone on the nightstand. _Maybe Kenma hadn’t texted yet because they just now decided where they were going._ Swiping his screen to unlock the phone, he was greeted with a message from Bokuto however.

Owl-san (4/28/16 - 9:03pm): Hey Tomcat, I’ve got great plans for tonight! What you doing? Nothing? great! Because, you are coming with us!!

Kuroo (4/28/16 – 9:03pm): Not tonight Bokuto. I don’t feel well.

Owl-san (4/28/16 – 9:04om): I didn’t ask if you wanted to come or not, I said you were coming! Get dressed, Akaashi and I will be there in 5.

Maybe this was actually a good idea. More than likely this was terrible idea. But right now, Kuroo just wanted to forget about today. Forget about his less than satisfactory lesson plans. Forget about his possible pending marriage interview. Forget about everything that had happened with Nowaki.

But especially forget about a certain blonde, apathetic, gamer kitten that would not let him think about anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I promised that this chapter would be longer than the last one and I hope it made up for the shortcomings in the last chapter. It was a bit difficult writing from what I thought would be Kuroo's perspective. I identify more with Kenma and his personality so it was a bit difficult trying to write from a different personality, but I hope you still enjoyed it!


	7. Out Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song of reference: Out Tonight - Rent
> 
> * I had a hard time finding a song to listen to while I wrote this chapter. I ended up listening to a lot of different ones, but I listened to this one again and realized that it almost fit the chapter perfectly so here it is! The fact that the singer says "Meow", "Feline", and "wail at the moon like a cat in heat" were just added bonuses for our little Kitten!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter is a day late you guys! My student teaching is really starting to get stressful, as I am preparing to write and submit the big assignment that decided whether I can be a teacher or not. So for about the next 4 weeks, I will probably be knee deep in that. So I apologize in advance if I am again a day or two late in posting a chapter, but I promise I will keep to my once a week posting. :)

_Going out? Out where?_

Hinata had poked and prodded Kenma into joining him, Kageyama, and some of their friends at what was apparently “The Hottest Bar & Club” in the area. Trying his damndest to convince him that going out was, in fact, the best idea ever and that he couldn’t just stay in his room, wallowing in self-pity.

Kenma had tried resisting at first. He didn’t like being in crowds on his best day. But couple that with today’s events, and he was liable to have a full-on panic attack. However, it seemed that Hinata wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Hinata started pulling at Kenma’s shirt and pants, stripping him of his clothes until he was just in his loose boxers. The red fabric, adorned with thin black outlines of chubby cartoon cats, fish bones, paw prints, and the word “ _Meow_ ” here and there, standing out in stark relief against his porcelain white skin.

Kenma was then subjected to feeling like a life-sized Barbie doll, as Hinata stuffed his various appendages into the clothes he had thrown at Kenma earlier. He didn’t really fight back because he was still in shock. Shock from earlier. Shock from being talked into going out for the night. But mostly in shock that he was almost completely naked, cold, and now being manhandled into clothes that were going to be too small.

Once Hinata had finished dressing him, Kenma stood in front of the floor length mirror on the back of Hinata’s door. He knew that he looked quite good. The black skinny jeans hugged his legs and hips, popping his butt out further than any of his own pants knew how to do. The green jacket complimenting his blond streaks and fine features. And if it had been yesterday, or even a few hours ago, he might have even admitted to those things. But it wasn’t. He just didn’t see it this time. Didn’t have the energy to even try.

“WHOA! Kenma you look amazing!” Hinata had popped up behind Kenma in the mirror. His trademark smile broadcast across his face, almost blinding Kenma in its intensity. Hinata darted over to the desk and swiped his wallet off the table, stuffing the leather square that had a white embroidered volleyball on the front flap and the red number 10 standing out blatantly on it, into his back pocket. _Kageyama is lucky the National Team gave him the same number he had in high school._

“Kenma, let me see your wallet.” _Why?_ “Come on! Gimme!” Hinata gave him a small push, his excitement showing more and more on his face and in his movements with every passing second.

He shuffled over towards where his own pants were, which had been unceremoniously chucked into a corner of the room. Rummaging through his jeans, he fished out the black billfold, recognizing the white mask of No Face gently smiling up at him. Standing again, he turned and slowly extended his arm towards Hinata, still not having the faintest clue as to why he wanted his wallet.

Swiping the palm sized money jailhouse from Kenma’s hand, Hinata removed a white plastic square from one interior pocket and replaced it with a similar looking item. _Was that his license?_

Kenma’s parents had let him get his license when he had turned 18 so that he could go visit Hinata more often. Also, they had given him a car when he had started college so he could go on trips whenever he wanted, or come home and visit. But, Kenma was still only 19. His birthday still about six months away.

“Shoyo…” Kenma gasped quietly as realization struck him. “Is that a- “

“There, now you are 20 years old today! So, Happy Birthday Kenma!” Hinata held out the wallet for Kenma to take and as he flipped it open, he decided that it did look quite legit. The picture was the same, as well as most of the information as his real license. Just the license number and birthdate were different. Kenma knew that Hinata had had a fake ID for a while, since most of his friends were of legal age now.

Kenma had never seen a point to getting one though. He had never been interested in drinking when he was still in high school, and now that he was living with someone of legal age, there was always beer in the fridge which he could take if he wanted one.

Hinata was roughly shoving his feet into his shoes at this point, face a little pink from the excitement that must have been coursing through his body. Kenma really didn’t want to go out. But, when Hinata turned and asked Kenma if he was ready, face beaming with hope and what seemed to be a promise of a good time, Kenma just couldn’t say no to his friend who was trying his absolute hardest to make Kenma feel better. He could always just stay in bed for the rest of the weekend. One night wouldn’t kill him or really change the situation that awaited him upstairs.

“Okay Shoyo, I know you really want to see Kageyama but you don’t want to leave me alone. Thanks. So, I’ll go for a bit.” Kenma sighed, resigning himself to suffering through a night of too many people and only having games on his phone to play. Hinata’s face softened and his excitement seemed to dip a few notches.

“Thanks, Kenma. That really means a lot.” Then the bright personality bubbled back to the surface, unable to be held back a second longer it seemed. “Now, let’s go have some fun!”

As they left Hinata’s room and went through the front door of the dorm building, it took every ounce of Kenma’s will to not look back and search out his and Kuroo’s rooms on the third floor.

He knew Kuroo liked to people watch and if he chanced a look up and he was there in the window, Kenma didn’t think he would be able to keep moving forward. He would have stumbled and possibly had another breakdown. The metaphor that that scene would portray, that Kenma was always on the outside looking in, would be too sharp of a reminder than Kenma could handle at the moment.

A slight breeze tickled Kenma’s face, his hair fluttering against his ears and cheeks. And while Hinata excitedly jumped around him, babbling incessantly about how excited he was and about how happy he was to be seeing Kageyama, it helped Kenma’s mind focus on something else.

“So, where exactly are we going? You said we needed tickets.” Kenma questioned the sunshine child.

“OH! It’s this place called FUBAR, it’s the hottest bar and dance club in Shinjuku Ni-chome right now. It is really cool because it has BAR in the name already! It lets anybody come in whether they are straight or gay. And the tickets I told you about allow us to get into the VIP area! I’ve been wanting to go with Kageyama for a while so I’m really excited to go tonight!” He and Hinata had settled into their seats on the train when Hinata seemed to remember something very important. “ _BWAH_! And since it is Friday, that means it’s amateur night!!!”

Kenma was almost afraid to ask. “Amateur night?” Hinata gave him a devious smile. _Yup, shouldn’t have asked._

“Well, this club has a lot of different type of performers on top of being a dance club. They have go-go boys and girls, poles, and even cages for dancing. On amateur night, you can sign up to try dancing on a pole or in a cage and the top performer for the night gets their tab covered for them and their group! It sounds like fun. I’d love to see the look on Kageyama’s face if he saw me pole dancing!” Hinata got quiet at that point and a light blush was just kissing the apples on his cheeks, his mind obviously gone farther into the future than just the pole routine he was imagining. “To be honest, I actually had planned to take him specifically on amateur night because I have been working on something just for this type of situation.”

“What do you mean?” Hinata giggled softly into the back of his hand, waving off the question and pegging him with a mischievous stare.

“You’ll see!” He sing-songed in response.

The rest of the train ride consisted of mainly why the club was so hot and all the different events it offered. By the time they had disembarked from the train and were walking into Shinjuku Ni-chome, Kenma was pretty sure he could have found it with his eyes closed, he knew so much about it.

Rounding a corner, they almost ran smack dab into a long line of people dressed to the nines, all who looked ready for a long night of partying and dancing. _This must be it._ Kenma tried to settle himself at the end of the line as quietly and as non-descript as possible, when Hinata began tugging on his sleeve, pulling him towards the front of the line.

“Shoyo, isn’t this the end of the line? We have to wait our turn.” Kenma protested, struggling in Hinata’s surprisingly strong grip.

“Remember! I said we had VIP tickets Kenma, that means we also get to bypass the line!” Hinata continued to walk towards the front of the line, receiving multiple death stares from individuals who did have to wait their turn in line. At the front of the line was a bouncer who was well over six feet tall and had full tattoo sleeves up each arm. _He’s just missing the shades, and he would be right out of a mob movie._

“HI! My name is Hinata Shoyo and this is Kozume Kenma. We should be on the list to get in.” Hinata beamed at the man, fully expecting to be let in without a problem.

But, the bouncer just stared at Hinata, not moving a muscle. Almost as if he hadn’t heard the small ball of sunny energy.

“Hey,” Hinata waved his hand up in front of the bouncer’s face, well neck since he couldn’t quite reach his face. “I said my name is Hinata Shoyo and I’m on the list to get in tonight. We’re with Oikawa and Kagayama, and I know they are here already.” The bouncer moved to cross his arms over his broad chest, acting as though he was thoroughly convinced that Hinata was mistaken.

“Don’t you have to go to school in the morning little boy? What grade are you in?” The bouncer chuckled gruffly. _Oh crap._

Hinata puffed out his cheeks in a visible pout. His hands clenched at his side and his body began to vibrate from the force it took to keep his anger in check. Kenma knew that if Hinata had been in high school, he would have tried to fight the bouncer, even though he was only maybe a third his size. However, since starting college, Hinata had mellowed out, not reacting to every person who pushed his buttons the wrong way. But, Hinata still had a lower threshold for most when it came to this type of situation.

Just as Kenma was grabbing Hinata’s sleeve just in case he needed to hold the small boy back, a deep voice called out to them.

“They’re with me.” Kenma turned towards the voice and realized it was Iwaizumi. The dark-haired man walked up to the bouncer and showed him three VIP tickets. The bouncer grunted and asked for their ID’s, which they all procured quickly. The bouncer seemed to focus more closely at Hinata’s ID, almost knowing that it was fake just from looking at Hinata, but eventually handing it back and tilting his head towards the door.

Iwaizumi exchanged a few whispered words with the bouncer who let out a deep chuckle in response and they bumped fists, Iwaizumi motioning for the boys to follow him inside. Once Kenma and Hinata had passed by the bouncer, Hinata turned around and stuck his tongue out at the man. _Still such a child._

The inside of the club hit Kenma like a ton of bricks. Stimulations assaulting him from all directions and affecting all his senses. People were packed onto the dance floor like sardines, dancing and grinding to the heavy bass tones of the song the DJ was blaring through the expensive looking speaker system. There were long lines of people congregating at the bar, forming a desperate, thirsty, impenetrable wall. Disco and strobe lights sent beams of light all over the large space, a few stopping to introduce themselves to the back of Kenma’s eyeballs now and then. The cloud of body sweat, perfume, cologne, and the sweet notes of the drinks that were on the tray of the waitress who had just passed in front of them, assaulted Kenma’s nose and brain, making it go slightly fuzzy. The telltale sign of a sensory overload headache beginning to pound behind his eyes.

_Yeah, this had indeed been a poor decision._ Kenma visibly shuddered from the onslaught to his senses. Thankfully though, they did not remain on the cramped club floor for long. As Kenma and Hinata followed behind Iwaizumi, Kenma could see a row of floor length windows, on a different level above the dance floor, come into view. He couldn’t really see into the windows though to get an idea of the interior or the room. _Two–way mirror glass?_

Approaching a clear, acrylic looking staircase that lead to the mysterious upper floor, the trio was met with another bouncer. Once again, Iwaizumi showed the tickets to the bouncer, which he took and instead pulled three neon orange plastic bands with the letters VIP in bold letters from his back pocket and proceeded to clip them onto each of the boy’s wrists.

The headache that Kenma had started feeling, lessened slightly once he entered the VIP lounge. This room was much quieter, which suggested that it must have had multiple feet of soundproofing in the walls. The smells were much more pleasant, taking on the musky notes of cigars instead of the staleness of sweat, and the tangy citrus scent of real oranges wasn’t as cloying as the perfumed versions below on the dance floor. People here lounged back against blood red couches and at high top tables, each having enough room to breathe and converse easily.

“ _KAGEYAMA!!!_ ” Hinata boomed and bolted from Kenma’s side towards his boyfriend, tearing through the quieter space. The almost six-foot setter must not have seen Hinata walk in because he flinched at his name, a scowl plastered on his face. But once he realized who had to vehemently shouted his name, his glower softened into a gentle smile. Chuckling quietly as Hinata flew into his waiting arms. The small boy planting open mouthed kisses across Kageyama’s face, neck, and lips.

Kenma’s heart clenched and his tear ducts prickled at the sight in front of him. He couldn’t fault Hinata for being excited to see his boyfriend. He couldn’t even blame him for the PDA. Kenma was beyond thrilled that Hinata had been able to find, and be happy, with the love of his life and that they were progressing in their relationship nicely.

But, it just wasn’t fair. Why did everyone around him get to be happy and live their lives with whoever they wanted, but he was doomed to always be the best friend, not the lover. Just like that in that movie with that Heigl girl: always the bridesmaid, never the bride. The second choice … no, he wasn’t even given the courtesy of being a choice to begin with.

“Hey, _pudding head_ , glad you could make it!” A heavy arm settled across Kenma’s shoulders as he was forcibly turned away from the scene in front of him. Kenma looked up to see that Oikawa was the one who was now leading him over to a high-top table that was close to Hinata and Kageyama, but far enough away that he didn’t have to see or hear them. Oikawa was looking sharp in his white button down shirt, navy jacket, and dark brown, khaki slacks.

Oikawa pulled out one of the high-top chairs and motioned for Kenma to take a seat. “When did you become such a gentleman, Oikawa-san?” Kenma questioned the taller boy, slight apprehension making his movements as he settled into the chair stiffer than usual.

Oikawa feigned hurt feelings, placing a hand over his heart and the back of his other hand across his forehead. “Kozume-chan!!! How can you say such things! I have always been a romantic at heart, especially when I see that someone has had problems in love.”

Kenma looked at the table, tracing the metallic, ground out lines and circles in the tables design with his eyes. _Did Hinata tell him?_ Gently dangling his feet under his chair, since his feet couldn’t really reach the foot rest, Kenma didn’t know what he should do. Continue to ignore the problem and hope it would go away? Or confide in another person, one who didn’t know how much he loved Kuroo and see if they had different advice for him?

Looking back up at Oikawa, who had settled his chin onto the palm of his hand that was propped up on the table, giving Kenma a knowing stare, Kenma decided to keep it to himself for now.

“Nothing’s wrong, Oikawa-san.” Kenma mumbled, as the mask he always hid behind settled itself back into place. “There was a new game that I wanted but the store was sold out, so I wasn’t able to buy it.” Oikawa just continued to stare at him.

“Hmmm. Last time I checked, when I looked at a couple that was so obviously, _disgustingly_ , in love, I usually would be happy for them, even if it was Tobio-chan. Not look like someone was ripping my heart out through my chest, leaving me to bleed out on the floor as all I could do was watch their happiness as I faded away into nothingness.” Kenma’s mouth dropped open at this, but no sound escaped him. “Am I close, _pudding head_?”

Kenma’s mouth snapped shut, just as Iwaizumi showed up at the table with three stout shot glasses filled with an amber liquid. So far, Kenma had only had beer, never having seen the attraction in imbibing a liquid that’s sole purpose seemed to be to make you stupid, and do stupid things.

“Bottom’s up.” Iwaizumi grunted as he raised his shot glass in the air. Waiting for the two others to join him.

“Cheers Iwa-chan! Kozume-chan!” He raised his glass up to join Iwaizumi’s. Both now waiting for him to make his decision of whether to drink or not. Kenma chanced a glance back at Hinata to see if he was going to join them soon, but the way that he was now straddled across Kageyama’s hips, essentially kissing and grinding him into the couch they sat on, he made his decision.

Grasping the small, sticky glass in his hand and holding it up to join its brothers, Kenma looked both Oikawa and Iwaizumi in the eye, steeling his back and his resolve. “To moving on.” The three clinked the glasses together, some of the liquid sloshing between the glasses and dripping down onto the table.

Bringing the glass to his lips, Kenma threw the shot back into his throat. The burn he felt and the coughing that ensued, felt good. It felt a whole hell of a lot better than the pain he was feeling a few moments ago.

As the burning sensation eventually subsided and the coughing was more manageable, a warm band started to fold its way around his abdomen, traveling out towards his extremities.

Closing his eyes as the warmth had reached his neck and was beginning to creep up his face, Kenma thought that he probably shouldn’t have another drink for a while. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast and if he didn’t get some bread in his stomach soon, the alcohol was going to go straight to his head. But, it was hard to deny that he was already starting to feel better.

This feeling was just going to be temporary, unfortunately, and more than likely if he kept going, he was going to feel terrible later. But as Iwaizumi brought another round to the table, Kenma quashed those thoughts and gladly welcomed the second glass of relief down his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you're thinking, "gee, wonder how Kenma acts when he's drunk?" Well, stop by next week to see how I think he would act!


	8. Can't Be Tamed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit more about Iwazumi, including a little bit of his POV, and Oikawa
> 
> Song for reference: Can't Be Tamed - Miley Cyrus

He had lied, this had been a _GREAT_ idea!

Kenma was on his _Fifth? Sixth?_ drink at this point. He wasn’t really sure. The warmth and looseness in his joints told him it had at least been a couple of drinks. But he still had the presence of mind to know where he was and what he was doing. The knowledge was there even if his actions didn’t show it.

At the moment, Kenma was down on the dance floor with the rest of the group. Watching Oikawa saunter up onto the stage as the troupe of go-go boys in white speedos and pink feather leg warmers paraded off. Their muscled rippling seductively and their skin shone under the bright lights in only the way that sweat and copious amounts of body oil could.

“Alright every one! Let’s welcome to the stage our next amateur for the night. OIKAWA-KUN!!!” The DJ screamed into the microphone, the crowd roared wildly as Oikawa entered the cage to the left of the DJ stand on the stage.

Hinata had already gone earlier on the pole, which was to the right of the stand, and everyone had loved him. He had actually been pretty good. Not only utilizing different moves while he was on the floor, but climbing to different heights on the pole, showcasing different spins, hangs, holds, and tricks. _When did Hinata learn to do all that_? Kenma has asked essentially every second of the young spit-fire’s routine.

And from looking at Kageyama’s face watching Hinata, it had had the intended effect. Kageyama’s mouth had been hanging open and he was breathing heavily through his mouth. His eyes followed Hinata’s every move, every spin, every undulation of his body. His hands had been clenching and unclenching the entire time. Almost as if they had just wanted to grab Hinata down from the stage and take him right then and there on the floor.

When Hinata had crawled off the stage over to Kageyama, he had picked the small boy up and carried him princess style straight to the bathroom. The red-head giggling and sighing the whole way as Kageyama’s tongue and hands roamed over any exposed skin they could find.

Kenma stood for a few more moments, watching the couple disappear behind one of the private bathroom doors behind the VIP rope. _I guess that’s why the bathrooms in the VIP section are private ones._ He felt a gentle nudge against his elbow, turning slowly to see Iwaizumi standing next to him. But Iwaizumi’s eyes weren’t on him, they were glued to Oikawa.

Kenma had always sensed something between the two men, but nothing specific had ever confirmed or really denied his assumptions. And certainly, neither man had ever said anything explicitly on the subject.

Since Kenma was reserved by nature and didn’t like to pry into people’s private lives, he had never asked outright. However, the alcohol had since taken the controller for his brain, and he couldn’t stop the words before they came tumbling out.

“Are you and Oikawa together?” Kenma weaved slightly on his feet as he continued to look up at the ominous young man. He saw Iwaizumi’s back straighten slightly and his hands tightened ever so slightly against his large biceps, which, with the way he was crossing his arms, made them seem even larger than they usually were. _Nail… meet head_.

“No… we’re not.” Iwaizumi said simply. Kenma remained quiet, hoping that the man would continue explaining. Oikawa had fully entered the cage at this point and had kicked off his shoes. Signaling to the DJ with a peace sign and sticking out the tip of his tongue up and to the right that he was ready to begin. _Cute_.

“Let’s see if Oikawa-kun has what it takes to be … CAGE BAIT!” The DJ pushed a couple of buttons on his turn tables and Miley Cyrus’ “Can’t Be Tamed” blared through the speakers. The deep base vibrating through Kenma’s small body.

As Oikawa began to sway to the music, he would have bet his semester grade that he heard Iwaizumi say under his breath, “But, _God_ , how I wish we could be.”

***

Iwaizumi and Oikawa had been friends for as long as he could remember. Their moms had been childhood friends as well so it was expected that when they got together for lunch or to just hang out, the boys would get to see each other and play. It also was inevitable, since they lived right next door to each other.

The two boys had done absolutely everything together. From playing tag as toddlers, to going on safaris to look for bugs and fish at the river near their houses, to even doing their homework together throughout the entirety of their school years.

Volleyball had been a mutual passion of theirs, even though Oikawa had far surpassed him in skill a long time ago. _That’s why he made the National Team so easily_. True, Oikawa had been on the alternate team for about a year first, but through hard work and many, many late-night practices and physical therapy session because he kept overworking his stupid ass knee, he had been able to prove himself worthy to be a permanent member of the team.

So, it was understandable that after all that work Oikawa had done to get onto the team, he had been a little bit upset that Kageyama had been scouted, drafted, and placed on the team as the second setter straight out of high school. Okay, maybe a little was an understatement.

Oikawa had come back to their shared apartment the day that Kageyama had joined the team and thrown an absolute fit. His inner toddler coming out as he screamed and pounded his fists and feet on the floor. Iwaizumi had just let him flail around though, knowing full well that he would tire himself out eventually.

And sure enough, about 30 minutes later, Oikawa had pushed himself up off the floor and went looking for the comfort of Iwaizumi’s arms, and that was the part that Iwaizumi hated the most.

Being able to hold Oikawa’s tight body against his own, feeling the warmth that seeped out of all the points of contact between their bodies, completely flush from head to hip. The tangy notes of pink grapefruit, peach, and gardenia from the _specialty organic_ shampoo he used. The way his hands circled his neck and played with the hair at the base of his skull and ran down his back. All of it overloading Iwaizumi’s senses clashed with the fact that Oikawa wasn’t really his. He never would be. Oikawa was seeking comfort from his best friend, not his lover.

He always had to be careful to keep his distance mentally and physically when Oikawa got clingy like that. _Dead babies. Grandma getting out of the shower. A month old, rotting hamburger in the bottom of my backpack, in the middle of summer…_

But eventually, close to two months later, Oikawa had gotten over it and could now see Kageyama as a teammate instead of only as a rival. Which had been one of the main reasons they had all come out tonight. Oikawa had gotten a handful of VIP passes from a fan after one of his practices last week when Iwaizumi had gone to pick him up from Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium, the practice stadium for “Team Japan Men’s Volleyball Team”.

The young man had approached Oikawa, laying on praise of his talents as thickly as cold syrup on pancakes. Oikawa had originally tried to refuse the tickets, _odd_ , Iwaizumi had thought. He had never turned down anything with a pulse before, and this guy was offering to get him into the hottest club in all of Tokyo.

But, Iwaizumi had let it slide, making a note to ask Oikawa about it later, as the young man kept pestering Oikawa to take the tickets, stating that his father owned the club so it was no problem for Oikawa to have them.

He was just about to step in and tell the guy to fuck off, when Oikawa threw his arm around the guy’s shoulders and laughed from his belly, finally agreeing to take the tickets. After much deliberation, they had decided to go out that very same night, since Oikawa was slated to get some training from an old teammate in a few days in Osaka. And if this bar was as “amaze-balls” as everyone said, they were all going to get shit-faced and would need a full day to recover.

_He’s still touching that guy_ , Iwaizumi had thought darkly.

Iwaizumi had grown accustomed to Oikawa being overly flirty with people, men and women alike. Remembering very clearly when Oikawa had come bounding into school one day during their second year and proudly telling him that he was no longer a virgin. Iwaizumi had smacked Oikawa upside his head at that statement, giving him some lame excuse like ‘Do you even love her? _Assykawa_! You don’t just sleep with people you don’t have feelings for!” He had stormed off after that and didn’t speak to Oikawa for the next couple of days.

The outburst had made Iwaizumi feel at least a little better. But, it was like a bandaid over a sliced artery. It wasn’t going to stop the bleeding entirely, but it was at least better than doing nothing and bleeding out on the floor. All the while knowing that you were eventually going to die if you didn’t get help soon, but daring not to move because you want just one more moment of what you used to have.

He wasn’t sure when he had fallen in love with Oikawa, maybe he always had been and just didn’t have a name for it. The feeling of wanting to protect him, to keep him safe, to make him happy. To make him his and only his, taking over his entire being until he wasn’t sure where he stopped and Oikawa began. He had it bad back then, and still did to this day.

After that incident, Oikawa seemed to make a conscious effort to not piss off Iwaizumi when it came to his partners and sex. Iwaizumi even tried dating a few people here and there to forget about Oikawa, but it never worked. That wasn’t to say that he was celibate now that he knew Oikawa was the only one for him, he was still a healthy young man after all. He regularly sought out partners to take home for the night but they were always flings, never anything serious.

Glancing down at Kozume, a thought lightbulbed into Iwaizumi’s head. They had all been drinking for a while so inhibitions were low. _Maybe this time it could work._

About a year ago, Oikawa had come to Iwaizumi with a request. He was seeing a girl at the time who had always wanted to try a threesome. And Oikawa had said that there was no one that he trusted more than Iwaizumi and then asked him if he would be willing to give it a try.

Iwaizumi was in no way a prude when it came to sex. He had pretty much done every position he could think of or read about, even dabbling in BDSM on occasion. He could even reverse if he was in the mood for it, he just wasn’t in that kind of a mood very often.

But, the idea of being able to be naked in the same bed as the man of his dreams almost made his brain short circuit. The one hiccup was that there was going to be another person there. One who would be demanding most of the attention from both of them. He wouldn’t be able to give all of his attention to Oikawa like he would have wanted to. So, at the time, he had declined the offer, much to Oikawa’s disappointment.

However, Iwaizumi had seen how much both Kozume and Oikawa had thrown back at this point. And even though he didn’t know the details, he could see that Kozume was heart-broken. Maybe he could suggest to Oikawa that the three of them head back to their place later after some more drinking and dancing. Maybe he could get Kozume plied with enough alcohol that he would pass out and it could just be him and Oikawa alone together. Whatever happening between them at that point he could easily explain away because of the alcohol.

Iwaizumi looked back up towards Oikawa in the cage. He had since unbuttoned his button-down and the two halves were splayed open across his bare, muscular chest. His back was up against one side of the cage, allowing multiple sets of hands to reach between the bars and stroke across his torso.

Oikawa’s head was tilted back, mouth open, pushing back against the bars as the unknown hands ran over his body. His hips punched forward in a seductive wave as one hand brushed roughly over one of his nipples.

He pushed off the wall and bent forward to fall to his knees on the floor. Pushing forward so his hand and chest spread across the floor, popping his perfect ass in the air, as if in an unspoken invitation. Iwaizumi’s nails dug harder into his biceps, how he wished he could take Oikawa up on the offer.

As Oikawa slid back onto his knees, Iwaizumi noticed that the button that held the top of Oikawa’s pants together was no longer doing its job. _When did he do that?_

Oikawa was hairless across his most of his body, preferring to keep a sleek image. But Iwaizumi couldn’t keep his eyes from following the faint treasure trail of dark curls that started under his belly button and disappeared beneath the waistband of his underwear. Iwaizumi’s breath became harder, panting lightly as he watched Oikawa strip off his shirt with a sharp tug.

Oikawa ran his long fingers lightly over the small mounds of his abs, traveling up towards his chest. A light sheen glimmered off of Oikawa’s body, sweat beading up on his skin from the exertion of dancing and the sweltering atmosphere in the club. Rocking back further back on his heels, he trailed his hands over his throat and pushed them up to tangle in his hair.

Iwaizumi imagined that it was his hands in Oikawa’s hair. Pulling his head back and causing his back to bend in a sexy arch. He could imagine what it would feel like inside him, Oikawa pulsing around his dick with each slam of Iwaizumi’s hips and each harsh tug on his hair.

_Shit_ , he was hard already. Thankfully, the club was dark and there were masses of people surrounding him, many of whom seemed to be in the same boat as him, so his level of embarrassment wasn’t as high as it could have been.

Oikawa’s eyes snapped open and locked onto him like a homing device and Iwaizumi swallowed hard. Flipping over until his back was stretched out along the cage floor, Oikawa hooked his thumbs into the open waistband of his pants and began to slide them down his sculpted thighs. Gently rolling his hips up and around in little circles, in time with the heavy bass notes of the song.

If Iwaizumi hadn’t been so horny, he would have laughed out loud at what Oikawa had apparently chosen as appropriate underwear for the night. Little green alien heads stood out against a bubblegum pink background of his low rise, hipster style briefs. _Oh god, the heads even glow in the dark_ , he thought as the little heads fluoresced green under the club’s black lights.

And if that hadn’t been enough to Iwaizumi’s head to explode, what Oikawa did next almost had him coming in his pants, right there on the dance floor in the middle of a sea of people.

Oikawa was essentially naked, except for the cutesy pink alien “panties”; the sheen on his body brighter now that the song was almost done. His lower back was curved off the floor as his hips tilted up towards the ceiling, the thick ridge of his erection painfully obvious. One leg cocked up in a bend, the flat part of his foot securing him to the floor. Oikawa’s arms were back up above his head, reaching for more hands that were just out of reach of his fingers.

As he brought them back to his head, his hands traveled through his hair, down his neck and over his pecs. Iwaizumi’s mouth went dry and his cock twitched hard behind his fly as Oikawa’s eyes slowly rolled over to meet his once again.

The eye contact was intense, heated, raw; and neither of the boys broke away from the link as Oikawa’s hands traveled further down his abs and brushed hard against the length under his briefs. Stroking a few times and then squeezing hard against his erection through the fabric as the last line of the song belted through the club.

Oikawa’s head pushed hard into the metal under his head which popped his shoulders and upper chest off the floor, his mouth dropping open in a shout that couldn’t be heard over the music and the crowd. And as a small line of saliva dribbled out of his mouth and down the side of his cheek, the front of his briefs went from a light bubblegum pink to a dark magenta.

_No way. Holy … HELL!_

Iwaizumi watched Oikawa as he panted hard on the floor of the cage. Slowly getting to his feet to wave to all his new adoring fans and throwing the DJ another peace sign. Swiping his clothes from the floor, Oikawa wrestled his now sticky body into the different pieces of fabric as the DJ tried to talk over the roar in the club.

Iwaizumi didn’t even try to listen to what he was saying though. His complete, undivided attention was focused solely on Oikawa, who was now clambering out of the cage and walking towards him. A looseness in his movements that only an orgasm could bring.

“So Iwa-Chan? How was I?” Oikawa purred against Iwaizumi’s throat, his hands splaying across Iwaizumi’s pecs and shoulders. His words hot and languid against Iwaizumi’s skin. “Wasn’t I just divine!”

Iwaizumi had to call on ever once of strength to not smack Oikawa upside his head in an attempt to deflect the feelings that were bubbling up in his chest. And his dick. Deciding in that moment that no matter what happened later, whether Kozume was there or not, he was going to have this man.

_Tonight_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay: 
> 
> 1) the song for reference was also the song Oikawa dances to. When I heard it, I said "Well, now I have to make Oikawa a stripper or something" and thus this cage scene was born.
> 
> 2) Again, I'm really sorry this chapter is a day late, I might need to move to Saturday updates for the time being because of student teaching. 
> 
> 3) I have a possible EXPLICIT scene lined up for the next chapter but wanted to get feedback as to whether or not people wanted to read it. It would be between Kageyama and Hinata and after they went to the bathroom. I have the idea in my head, but I wanted to see if people would want to read it before I put the time into it.
> 
> 4) I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Iwaoi is one of my OTP's from Haikyuu and I just love this "old married couple".


	9. Starving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starving - Hailee Steinfeld & Grey
> 
> p.s. - This chapter is actually 8.5 because it is a side chapter, but it wouldn't let me state that it was chapter 8.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys! Here it is, my first ever explicit, smut chapter. This specific chapter does not progress the main story line so if you are opposed to side chapter that do not progress the main story, or are not a fan of explicit smut, please feel free to skip this chapter. You will not miss anything. 
> 
> But if you are here for the smut (:-) ) please drop a comment and let me know if I satisfied. I have read more smut than I can count and want to be able to do the genre justice! I do have at least two more chapters of different character pairings smut in the works, but if I am not good at writing smut I can scrap them. Just please let me know.
> 
> SHOUTOUT to my editor LIV for essentially putting my hands on the keyboard and getting me to write this and to my bff Britt who is AMAZING at pole fitness and who helped me decide on moves for Hinata and proofread the first half to make sure the flow and routine made sense.

Hinata toed off his sneakers at the edge of the stage and stuffed his socks deep into them before padding over towards the pole next to the DJ stand. He had been looking forward to this for a long time. He’d planned to bring Kageyama on a different amateur night, maybe in a couple of months after he had gotten in some more practice. But when Kageyama had called earlier today before his classes had let out, inviting him, he immediately jumped at the opportunity.

Hinata had wanted to surprise Kageyama with the routine he had been practicing as his two year anniversary present. He had even been taking lessons at a local women’s only gym. It had taken a lot of convincing to let him come in and learn, since one of the reasons that women’s only gyms had become so popular lately was because women could explore their own strength and sensuality (depending on what the gym offered) without being judged by those of the male persuasion.

However, Hinata had been persistent. Even willing to pay for solo lessons before the gym opened or after it closed. He just wanted to do something special for Kageyama.

He had first heard about the gym from his Yachi and Shimizu, who happened to be instructors there. Shimizu taught body pump and aerial silks classes while Yachi taught the yoga and barre classes. So, while both women had been willing to help him out, pole routines were not in their repertoire of skills. Over about a month though, Yachi and Shimizu had been able to convince the owner of the gym to let him take private lessons at night after all the members had gone home.

It had been a long, grueling, three months of practice before he had felt comfortable enough to show off his new-found skills. And he had the pole burns and bruises to prove it. Hinata raised his left arm and observed the “pole kiss”, _bruise_ , on the inside of his elbow from when he had tried the ‘One-Armed Embrace’ move the day before. That was supposed to be the more advanced move that would be the final piece to his routine, but he had been having a really hard time getting it. Hopefully he could tonight.

He was pulled from his thoughts as the DJ announced him as the next amateur performer. Hinata popped the top few buttons on his shirt apart so that the two halves parted just enough to bare a little bit of his smooth, pale chest.

“Let’s welcome now HINATA-KUN, who would like to wish his boyfriend of two years a Happy Anniversary!” As Hinata stepped up to the side of the pole and gripped it lightly with one hand, he smiled widely at the DJ to let him know he was ready. The DJ shot him a thumbs up and fiddled with the switches on his table.

Hinata looked down and saw Kageyama at the front of the stage, along with Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Kenma. For a split second Hinata felt a pang of guilt that he was focusing more on himself than on his friend right now, looking at Kenma apologetically. But the blonde just waved a hand in front of him haphazardly, encouraging Hinata to do as he pleased. H glanced down at his feet thinking, _Kenma must be feeling good, finally. Thank you alcohol._

A small flicker of panic ran through his mind,  _I forgot my Dry Hands._ His hands always got pretty sweaty when he did pole and if he didn’t have his liquid-to-powder grip aid, he tended to have a more difficult time than was necessary. However, he didn’t have time to dwell on that small detail as Hailee Steinfeld’s “Starving” began to echo through the club, jolting him in to action.

Hinata’s first move was quite simple. He took four large, fluid steps around the pole, swinging his hips lightly with each step, ending in a single pirouette around his right wrist. He faced away from the audience now, giving his ass a little shimmy, smiling to himself as the cheers got louder.

Grasping the pole with his left hand as well, he swung his outer leg in a large circle like a compass drawing a circle around its center point. His hands seemed to be sticking decently so he threw more of his body weight into the move, spinning faster and deeper. And because he was getting such a good grip tonight, he was able to do the full two rotations he had planned for the routine, coming back to his original position. _Can’t see my face, but get a load of my ass!_

Hinata released the pole, planting his feet next to each other as he swung his hips sensually from side to side. He could feel the muscles in his side contracting and releasing, straightening each knee to raise the crest of his hips up to try and meet his rib cage before bending his knee again to drop each hip down.

He hadn’t been able to get the basic belly dancing shimmy down, for some reason he just had too much energy for the sophisticated muscle control it required. So, his instructor Yui-Sensei had taught him how to perform the sensual “Figure 8” he was now executing. So, while it wasn’t what he had originally though, it still felt sexy as hell. Especially with so many eyes on him.

The reason he had chosen to face away from the audience at this point was so he could unbutton the rest of his shirt, so that when he got into some of the more advanced spins his shirt would flutter around him like wings.

Performing another single pirouette, Hinata was back to facing the audience. His shirt doing exactly what he had wanted as it fluttered behind his spin and settled completely open against his hips.

His eyes zeroed in on Kageyema and held his gaze as he raised both his hands above his head to lightly take hold of the pole. He felt a wave of sexual power course through him as he saw his boyfriend’s mouth drop open slowly, mimicking the same speed his body was as he began to lower himself, ass first, towards the floor. His legs spread wider than his shoulder now so as to facilitate a wider sway of his hips until his butt was almost on the floor. His hips completely open and fully on display.

Hinata’s eyes never left Kageyama as both hands traveled down, transferring easily from the cool metal to the heated planes of his body. One hand staying up in his hair and rubbing sensually at his neck, the other traveling over his lightly defined pecs and abs.

He had always had lean muscle, never being considered ripped, but all cross training of volleyball and pole had really helped to define some of his muscle groups. Both of Hinata’s hands then traveled down to his waist, rubbing hard at his hips and the crease where his legs met his body.

Digging his palms firmly into the denim covered flesh, he splayed his fingers wide and moved his hands out towards his knees. Pushing his legs marginally farther apart as they went, causing his lower back to arch away from the pole.

As he curled the side of his neck and head around the cool metal, he dropped his jaw to take in more air, adding to the sensual elements of his routine. Glancing down, he could see, even from up on stage, Kageyama’s body start to shake. His eyes flashing and, if he had been standing right in front of him, he was sure Kageyama’s eyes were no longer ocean blue, but demonic black.

Hinata’s face broke into a cheeky smile as he quickly closed his legs together and shifted them to the left so he could stick his butt up in the air. Following the movement with the rest of his body until he was once again standing.

Yui-sensei had told him that pole was not just about being out rightly sexy, or even raunchy, in your movements. It also incorporated elements of ballroom dance, yoga, and even burlesque, where sometimes teasing got an even better reaction that just putting everything out on display all the time. And as he saw Kageyama’s mouth snap shut, his eyes narrowing even further as his hands clenched at his sides, he knew she had been right.

_Sorry big boy, but now the real fun begins!_

Hinata threw his body weight around the pole forcefully, one hand holding his body weight up on the pole, the other pushing away from it as he sat into a chair spin, crossing one leg over the other at the knee.

He made sure to have his hanging shoulder fully engaged and up, instead of just hanging his body weight from it so that he would have enough strength to finish and not destroy his shoulder. _Safety was number one, and if you don’t heed her warnings, she would chew you up and spit you out without a moments though_ , Yui-sensei’s words ringing through his brain.

Lightly peddling his feet, he touched back down onto the floor. Thus, giving Kageyama and the audience a full view of his firm ass as he twerked to the beat, his hands running gently up from the underside of his clothed cheeks up to his lower back.

Taking a step forward, he planted his shin against the pole and jumped into a fireman spin, the movement not sticking like he wanted because the jeans gave him little traction on the slick metal. Hinata thought fast and decided to jump ahead in his routine, allowing the spin to take him fully to the floor. Lowering his body down slower than originally planned to make up for the jump in his routine.

Rolling to the left onto his knee, then his elbow, and finally his back, Hinata fumbled with the button of his fly. Trying to keep the dance sexy but getting slightly frustrated with his body’s inability to perform like he could see it in his head and had practiced 100 times already. He got the same way before a game though too; he knew he had the skills and stamina to perform but he always got nervous and sick to his stomach anyway. This time though, he was just frustrated, but it was almost over, and from what he had seen, Kageyama at least seemed to be enjoying his routine a little bit.

He roughly stripped his jeans off, tossing them haphazardly to the side of the stage and out of his way, leaving him only in his short, black boxer briefs.

Throwing his weight into a backward shoulder roll, he popped back up onto one knee while the other leg was stretched out straight and to the side, like a cat. Pulling his body forward towards the pole, he raised his torso up so the tops of his feet could gently graze the floor. He planted the soles of his feet firmly on the ground once he was in a crouched position, his hips wide again, the pole fitted snuggly into the space between his semi-hard cock and the juncture of his thigh and hip.

Rocking forward onto the balls of his feet, he ground his hip into the pole, pushing his hips forward and rocking them back. One arm had traveled up above his head and gripped the metallic surface, allowing him to tilt his upper body back and drive his body deeper into the move.

He hadn’t originally gotten this move either, especially in this crouched position. However, when he had asked for guidance, Yui-sensei had blushed deeply and asked “Have you had sex before? Just imagine that.” When he had tried again, he had imagined all the times he had been with Kageyama, topping and bottoming since they liked to switch things up often, and it had been like a switch had been flipped and the lightbulb had gone off.

He had been so pumped that he had finally gotten the move, he had jumped almost an additional six feet in the air! The only downside was that he hadn’t been able to look Yui-sensei in the eyes for at least a good week after that. Which had made lessons very difficult.

Shimmying to a standing position, Hinata went through a few body rolls. Starting at his head rolling down through his shoulders, torso, hips, and through his knees to the floor. Hinata could hear the end of the song coming in a few more measures and took a deep breath. The hardest part was always the ending, when most of your energy had already been used up and your muscles burn and just want to quit. But he was almost done, he could do this!

Nestling the pole into his arm pit and pinning it between his pec muscles and his upper arm, he fan-kicked his legs in a circle in front of the pole and twisted into a deep sit. The metal now slightly slick from his sweat was harder to grasp between his thighs, making him have to squeeze harder than usual, since the only thing keeping him upright was the strength in his thighs. Even though he wasn’t very high and he was starting to slip as his muscles cried out in exhaustion, but he felt exhilarated.

Leaning back slightly to form a slight curve in his spine, he rolled his hips up and into the pole. Pumping his legs in the opposite direction, one at a time, he almost resembled a mermaid. _Merman_. Except this mermaid had two legs and they could move independently. So… not exactly like a mermaid at all, _whatever_.

At last, it was time for the ‘Embrace’. Hinata leaned his body forward back into the pole and wrapped both arms around the pole, fitting it tightly into the hollow of the space in front of his elbows. He then pressed the skin of his stomach firmly into the pole, getting as many points of contact with the metal as the pose would allow.

Releasing his legs to point straight down and at an angle away from him, he scanned the crowd again to find Kageyama. Once he found him, he locked his gaze and released one of his arm and drifted it out to point directly at him and pulled his pointed feet up close to his butt, just as the song ended, shooting Kageyama a cheeky wink just for added flair.

_YES!_

Hinata hopped down from the pole and gave a small jump and pumped his fist down by his hip to the deafening cheers of the crowd. Picking up his jeans and shuffling into them quickly, he rebuttoned his shirt and popped his shoes back on as quickly as he could. He had a huge, bright smile radiating out of his face, but once he saw Kageyama his smile disappeared. Hinata’s mouth dropped open and he panted hard at what he saw in Kageyama’s face; pure, unadulterated lust.

He didn’t even hear anything that the DJ was saying, and just slowly walked to the edge of the stage. Afraid that if he approached too fast, he would fall on his face from the intensity of Kageyama’s gaze or, _more likely_ , he would fall to his knees and beg Kageyama to take him, right there on stage.

Once he was within grabbing distance however, Kageyama crushed his small body to his larger once and assaulted his mouth with a deep, mind numbing kiss. He didn’t even realize Kageyama had picked him up, _princess style of course_ , and was carrying him to the bathrooms until he heard Kageyama whisper against his throat.

“You … you are absolutely amazing.” Hot breaths fluttered across his throat and tickled his ear. “I hope you knew what you were getting yourself into when you were doing that routine though.” Hinata practically mewled as Kageyama began sucking hard at different spots on his neck. His hand going up to spear in the dark strands of his boyfriend’s hair, urging him to stay in place.

As Kageyama violently opened one of the doors and kicked it closed, his next words sent a shiver of pure pleasure up Hinata’s spine, and Thank God, he was already being held or his legs would have turned to jelly and dropped him to the floor. “Because I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t stand anymore!”

***

What had he done in his short life to be on the receiving end of Hinata Shoyo’s love? Certainly, nothing that he could think of.

He and Hinata had spent their first year of high school together at each other’s throats for one reason or another, usually for something volleyball or school related. However, he was much happier with their relationship now, where they were at each other’s throats for entirely different reasons. Usually very hot, erotic reasons. Like right now.

Kageyama quickly placed Hinata on the ground and flicked the lock on the door behind him closed with a satisfying _snap_. He could see Hinata’s throat work in a roll as he swallowed hard at what he had just said.

Kageyama’s hands shot out, gripping the smaller boy’s hips hard and drug him up against his body. He groaned breathily at the friction of denim against his aching erection. Ever since Hinata had set foot on the stage, all the blood had gone straight to his dick; each second Hinata was on the pole ratcheting his libido up another notch until it was almost too painful to just stand there watching him. Not being able to touch him. To feel him underneath his fingers, his tongue, his body.

Kageyama leaned into Hinata’s neck and ran his lips lightly along the length of it. As he felt a small hand spear into his hair and grasp at the strands tightly, trying to push him even closer into his neck, he placed an open mouth kiss directly over Hinata’s pulse point just below his ear. Running his tongue in a tight, hard circle over the vessel just mere millimeters under his smooth, creamy flesh, elicited a throaty moan from his boyfriend.

“Don…don’t leave any marks. I have to do interviews this week.” Hinata panted. His mind apparently clear enough that he was able to think past this moment and into the future. _That’s gotta change_.

A deep growl vibrated up from the back of his throat as he pushed Hinata roughly into the ledge of the sink, the boy’s body bouncing lightly from the force of it. But Hinata didn’t complain, he just reached his arms forward, pulling Kageyama into the cradle of his body. The little red-head thrusting his face forward, searching out Kageyama’s mouth.

At the fierce contact between their lips, Kageyama felt electricity crackle across his skin. A live wire burned under his skin and if he kept going, he was going to get shocked. Leaning harder into the small body in front of him, he rolled his hips in small circles. The intensity of the motion causing Hinata’s mouth to release his and tilt back on a low, husky moan.

While Hinata was distracted by the sensations against his hips, Kageyama took the opportunity to snake his hands under the shirt that Hinata wore, still mostly unbuttoned from his dance. His right hand quickly found one pert nipple and rolled it between his index finger and thumb, his lips nudging the other side of the thin fabric aside and his mouth latching greedily onto the other.

Hinata’s head snapped forward, almost giving him whiplash, and whined. His hands coming to grip tightly onto Kageyama’s shoulders. One of his legs lifted to circle Kageyama’s hip while he gently rocked against him, sliding their cocks over one another through the fabric of their jeans.

“To-Tobio. AH!” Hinata whimpered as Kageyama’s fingers flicked over Hinata’s nipple, the edge of his nail rasping over the tender flesh. His fingers left Hinata’s chest and dropped down to the waist of the boy’s pants. Flipping the button open on Hinata’s jeans, he pushed his pants down, along with his underwear, in one jerk.

Kageyama sucked Hinata’s nipple deeper into his mouth, curling the sides of his tongue up around each side of the nub, rubbing back and forth a few times before pulling his mouth back and releasing Hinata’s nipple with a wet pop. Gently blowing cool air over the puckered flesh caused Hinata to hiss and roll his hips hard against Kageyama.

Closing his eyes and breathing deeply to try and gain control of the situation, Kageyama dropped quickly, his knees cracking on the bathroom floor. And what met his eyes almost had him weeping and coming at the same time.

Hinata’s hands were braced back against the ledge of the sink, which popped his hips forward. His chest was pumping hard with the force of the breaths he was trying to drag into his lungs. One nipple shining lightly from his saliva in the low glow of the fluorescent lights in the bathroom.

Running his eyes down his boyfriend’s torso hungrily, they finally latched into the erection that was standing out straight from Hinata’s body, begging to be touched, being framed by the tail ends of his shirt. The flushed, reddened skin was pulled taught over the swollen tissues underneath, making the different veins and bumps pop out in stark relief.

As Kageyama continued to stare at Hinata, a single drop of precum oozed from his slit and Kageyama had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from throwing Hinata on the dirty floor and fucking senseless. Or coming in his pants. Or both.

He heard a slight chuckle from above him and cracked his eyes open to look up at his lover. “Like what you see, do you?” Hinata purred as one hand left the counter ledge and trailed lightly over his blushing length, before taking himself fully in hand and pumping his length with long, fluid strokes.

If Kageyama let him keep going, he was going to end up getting a facial. And while he was never opposed to how Hinata wanted to come, it was their anniversary in a few hours and it was his turn to do something for the man who had just given him the most erotic performance he had ever seen.

Reaching forward and peeling Hinata’s hand off himself, the erection in front of his face twitched hard. Kageyama reached behind Hinata, popped his hips forward, rubbing the side of his face lightly down Hinata’s length. As Hinata’s mouth dropped open in a hard pant, his hips punching forward, seeking out Kageyama’s mouth.

He gave a small chuckle as nudged both Hinata’s hands behind his tight ass and pushed his hips back into the counter, effectively trapping his hands behind him against the ledge. _Perfect_.

Leaning his hands hard into Hinata’s hips, to make sure he stayed put like a good boy, Kageyama breathed hotly over the head of Hinata’s cock, causing it to jump again. He leaned in close and licked at the small stream of precum that had dribbled down the underside of his head and shaft. The salty, bitter fluid scattered on his tongue, causing his mouth to fill with more saliva to counter it.

He licked and nibbled down one side of Hinata’s cock and back up the other side. His tongue tracing every line he found, his teeth grazing lightly against the sensitive flesh. Hinata’s hips bucked against Kageyama’s hands and lips, making it more and more difficult to keep him in place the more he teased the boy.

“Tobio, …!” Hinata gasped.

“Relax, Shoyo” Kageyama shuddered against his lover’s erection. “You gave me my present, so now you get to enjoy yours. I’ve got you.” Kageyama leaned back from the red-head’s hips, giving him a chance to catch his breath and calm down a bit.

Kageyama watched as Hinata’s breathing became deeper and less hurried, then with a smirk that he knew Hinata missed, he lunged forward and swallowed Hinata in one go. Kageyama heard Hinata practically scream above him at the onslaught of sensation.

He was ruthless as he swirled his tongue over the head and through Hinata’s slit, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucked at the flesh. Moving his head up and down along Hinata’s length. Almost pulling completely off before slamming his lips and tongue back down almost to the base of Hinata’s cock.

Hinata had started to pump his hips in the small space Kageyama had allowed him, trying his hardest to fuck Kageyama’s mouth. He sat back on his heels and tried to slow Hinata’s thrusts, much to Hinata’s chagrin, if his throaty moans and whines were any indication.

Kageyama wetly pulled off of Hinata’s cock, leaving a trail of saliva and precum that connected his mouth to the tip of Hinata’s cock, getting a good few inches away before it finally snapped.

Reaching into his back pocket with one hand, the other keeping pressure on Hinata’s hips, he pulled out a condom and a single use packet of lube. He was going to have to thank Tanka’s sister for giving him a sample of her company’s newest product, _ANALyst: Premium, Tingling, Silicone Based Anal Lubricant_. He tore the edge of the packet and squeezed out a quarter sized amount onto his fingers. Kageyama held the slick fluid in his hand for a moment, helping to warm it further so it wouldn’t be such a shock to Hinata’s ass.

Raising Hinata’s leg up and resting the bend in his knee over his shoulder, Kageyama leaned in. This time taking Hinata slowly into his mouth, while the hand that was covered in the lubricant deftly slide between his cheeks and found his entrance. The tips of Kageyama’s fingers had started to tingle, _so I guess that part works_ , as he rubbed tight circles against the puckered skin.

Hinata was really getting into this, as the pitch in his moans got higher and his hips stuttered as they tried to decide whether to push forward into Kageyama’s mouth or to push back harder onto his fingers. Kageyama decided to give him a helping hand and gently slide one slick finger fully inside Hinata, feeling the thick band of muscle contract around his digit. Pumping in and out of Hinata at a pace that wasn’t gentle, but not punishing, _not yet_.

Slipping another finger in to join the first, Kageyama waited for Hinata to tense like he always did. He knew that if they had already had sex at least once this week, Hinata wouldn’t need that much prep, but since it had been almost a month since they had seen each other, Hinata was going to need a bit of working out to get ready. And Kageyama couldn’t rely on Hinata to adequately stretch himself to accommodate him.

The first finger was never a problem, but Hinata was so small and Kageyama, well, wasn’t. Not his fingers nor his cock. So, he always felt a slight twinge of guilt when Hinata had always hit that point when it started to become uncomfortable. But, this time there was no tensing. No mask of uncomfortableness. Only pure pleasure.

_Whoa! This lube is fan-FUCKING-tastic!_

Curling his fingers forward, essentially trying to make a loop between his mouth on Hinata’s dick, down through his arm between his legs, and his fingers deep in his ass, he searched for Hinata’s prostate. Knowing he hit it dead on when the small boy’s breathing pattern started to take on a slightly irregular edge and his moans dropped an octave.

Kageyama added a third finger after another moment, again being met with almost no resistance, just a slight twinge of what he assumed to be uncomfortableness, and began to massage Hinata’s prostate firmly but steadily. Twisting his wrist and fingers to either brush against it gently or attack it straight on. The whole while still sucking and moaning against the flesh in his mouth like he could never get enough of it.

“T-Tobio! Stop! I’m gonna…” Hinata panted hard, his chest rising and falling faster and faster with each second and Kageyama pulled his mouth off of him. One of Hinata’s, and Kageyama’s, favorite parts of the sex they shared was Hinata’s ability to have multiple orgasms. And it had taken them both over a year to be able to become so in tune with each other’s bodies to get it to work on a semi-consistent basis. Hinata had trained his body for many, many months to be able to be able to achieve dry orgasms, which would then allow for multiple orgasms without the pesky refractory period that accompanied a traditional, wet orgasm.

But the trick was that Hinata had to let Kageyama know when he was getting close to the point of no return. In this respect, Kageyama would remove all sensation except for the slide of his fingers thrusting in and out of Hinata’s ass, grazing firmly against his prostate. And once Kageyama had given most of the control back to Hinata, he was able to time when he needed to clamp down with his pelvic floor muscles to allow him to orgasm without ejaculating.

“Fuck…fuck…fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, FUUUUU!!!!!” Hinata came hard against Kageyama’s fingers. Kageyama smirked with adoration as he watched the erection in front of his face bob up and down like it would with a traditional orgasm, yet no milky white, salty fluid escaped from Hinata’s slit. God, Hinata was gorgeous when he orgasmed. His head thrown back, mouth stretched wide, face squinched up tight at the flood of sensations throughout his small body.

Releasing Hinata’s hips, so that they weren’t being caged against the counter, he drug his fingers slowly out of Hinata’s warmth, the man in front of him whimpering at the loss. Kageyama reached up and snapping a paper towel free from the dispenser and wiped off his fingers, still unable to tear his eyes away from the gorgeous visage in front of him.

Hinata’s head lolled forward as he gently shook out his hands, which had gone slightly purple midway down his hands and fingers, they must have fallen asleep, Kageyama thought guiltily.

“That, that was… wow! What lube was that?” Hinata slowly cracked his eyes open, their pupils having blown wide as a result of his orgasm.

"Saeko-san gave me a sample of her work's most recent product." Kageyama took the boy’s hands in his own, as he stood to his full height, and rubbed them, trying to return some of the blood flow to the thin digits, confirming they must have fallen asleep as Hinata hissed at the pressure on his fingers.

“Feels like TV static” he mumbled. Kageyama glanced down at his boyfriend with a slightly remorseful expression, but Hinata just waved a hand in front of his face stating, “No worries, I would totally do that again! But, what are we going to do about this now?” Hinata glanced up at Kageyama through the thick veil of eyelashes that fluttered against his cheeks, gesturing to his still hard cock. Kageyama could tell it wasn’t as hard as it had been before his orgasm, but Hinata had done a good job of maintaining his erection so that they could keep going.

“Turn around babe.” Kageyama demanded thickly. Hinata turned around quickly, popping his ass out as Kageyama violently torn the condom out of the wrapped and slid it over himself.

“One leg on the counter,” Kageyama gave his cock a few hard strokes through the condom to relieve some of the pressure as he doused his length with the rest of the lube. The sight in front of him could only be described as perfect. The way Hinata’s ass was popped up and out, one leg curled up on the counted under his body and the other balancing himself on the floor using only the ball of his foot. Hinata had turned his head slightly to look back at him, pleading him to keep going.

“Well, are you just gonna stare at my ass or are you gonna fuck me properly?” Kageyama snapped. Rushing forward, he gripped Hinata’s hips so tightly there were going to be bruises in the morning. Lining himself up with Hinata’s entrance, he slammed in to the hilt in one stroke, barking out a curse at the incredible warmth and tightness that met his movements.

Hinata voice keened off the walls of the small bathroom, his breath fogging up the glass on the mirror that was right in front of his face. He knew Hinata liked it slow in the beginning, usually because of the uncomfortable/ pain issue. But, because of the combination of the lube, the foreplay, and already having one orgasm, there seemed to be no need to hold back.

Kageyama retreated almost completely, only the head of his cock catching on Hinata’s rim before crashing back fully inside him. He felt a hand reach back to his ass and small pinpricks of pain exploded where Hinata’s fingernails had dug in. Urging him on; harder, faster.

Kageyama had lost all semblance of self-control at this point. He was already so close, and that was before he entered Hinata. But now that he was enveloped in his tight, wet heat, holding back was becoming more impossible by the second. The only saving grace was that because of the condom, he was able to hold on that much longer, due to the slight dulling of sensation through the latex.

As Kageyama swung his hips hard into his lover, he reached forward and palmed Hinata’s dick which was completely hard again, despite the orgasm he had just had moments ago. He pumped fast, long strokes along the length, paying special attention to his head and slit. Hinata’s hand dug harder into his ass while the other one went up to brace himself against the mirror so he could push back and meet Kageyama’s thrusts better, almost completely up against the glass now due to the force of Kageyama’s unrelenting thrusts.

Releasing Hinata’s other hip, he griped the red-head hard by the back of his head, wrenching his head backwards and sealing his mouth over Hinata’s, effectively muffling his screams as he came again, painting the mirror with white streaks of cum. Kageyama kept milking Hinata’s dick and thrusting into his ass until a few moments later he came, effectively filling the condom.

Kageyama’s skin was overly sensitive to the air around him. There was a small breeze from the fan that kicked on when the lights were activated. Peeling his eyes open, he mentally kicked himself for not realizing earlier. They were in front of a mirror, which was a rare occurrence. He could have spent some highly, visually stimulating time just watching himself fuck Hinata through the mirror glass. _Damnit, next time._

He released Hinata’s mouth with a wet slurp as he tried to drag air into his parched lungs. Hinata panted heavily under him, apparently in the same boat. He could feel Hinata’s ass and thighs tremble underneath him. He gave the boy’s length a few more strokes, Hinata sobbing and choking out small screams at the overstimulation.

Gently rubbing Hinata’s back as they both came down from their respective highs, breaths slowly becoming more even, he gripped the base of the condom and slowly pulled out of Hinata’s perfect ass.

Hinata gave a pitiful whimper at the loss of being filled. Kageyama chuckled, because every time he pulled out, Hinata made the same noise. It was endearing, and cute, and so unbelievably hot. And it filled Kageyama with insurmountable pride that he was the only person who had heard, or would ever hear that sound.

Peeling the condom off his now flaccid member, being careful to not spill any on the ground, he tossed it into the waste bin and reached over towards the paper towel dispenser. Kageyama grabbed a handful and put them under the faucet while he ran some warm water.

Squeezing out most of the moisture, he gently ran the warm mass over and through Hinata’s ass, removing all the excess lubricant. Hinata made a noise somewhere between a purr and a moan at the aftercare that Kageyama prided himself at being able to do so well.

Before pitching the wad into the trashcan, Kageyama folded to paper over to a new side and wiped off the mirror in front of Hinata, removing the evidence of his passion. He then helped Hinata off the counter and pulled up his pants for him. As he stood back up, pulling his own pants back up at the same time, Hinata leaned into his boyfriend’s body and placed a languid kiss on his lips, popping onto the balls of his feet so he could reach his tall boyfriend’s mouth. Wrapping his arms around his neck, Kageyama allowed the boy to explore his mouth gently, sliding their tongues against one another.

He tilted Hinata’s hips back gently as he lowered himself back down from being on his toes until his feet were flush on the floor. Reaching a hand up to push some stray hairs off of Hinata’s forehead.

"Well, you were true to your word. I probably couldn't walk now if I wanted to!" He chuckled warmed against Kageyama's mouth before bumping their foreheads together gently. He could feel his heart bang around in his chest, this little ball of fluff knew just how to stir him up.

“I’ve missed you, To.” Hinata whispered between his pecs as his small arms came up to circle around the back of his neck, sad yet understanding. Kageyama hugged the small body tightly to his own.

“I know babe, I’ve missed you too.” How were they going to survive the next couple of years? Always being separated by practice and school’s schedules, yet only living 45 minutes apart.

Kageyama shuddered at the thought. He couldn’t even remember being happy before Hinata had become a part of his life. He refused to even entertain the notion that he would have to return to that dark, lonely existence under any circumstance. Hinata had been the ray of sunshine that brought light into all the dark corners of his soul, bringing with it the promise of summer and happiness.

Leaning his face down into the ginger strands that rested peacefully against his chest, he breathed deeply, registering the citrusy notes that exploded in his nose and placed a chaste kiss to the cowlick at the exact center of Hinata’s scalp.

Hinata gave a small chuckle, “So, not that that wasn’t some of the best sex we have had in a month…” 

“That’s the only sex we have had in a month, dummy” Kageyama retorted back at Hinata’s rhetorical statement.

Hinata glanced up at him, his eyes dancing with mischief as he stuck his tongue out at him. “Like I said though, that was amazing and I am super relaxed and I’m going to sleep better than I have in a long time but … Do I still get a real present?” He ducked his head a little bit so that only the barest hint of his chocolate colored eyes was peeking up at Kageyama.

_Materialistic little fuck._

“Yes,” he huffed “Of course you still get a present. But this will have to tide you over until we get back to your place tomorrow and I have time to give it to you.” He gently pinched the sides of Hinata’s nose and glanced at the clock on the wall of the bathroom. 12:01 am. He thought about the small box that was tucked into his duffle with a small amount of apprehension. _Okay, a lot of apprehension._

He knew he loved Hinata more than anything, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. He had known back within the first weeks of them dating that this was who he was meant to be with. But he wasn’t completely 100 % sure of Hinata’s feelings. And he didn’t want to rush the small orange-haired, volleyball loving angel into something he wasn’t completely sure of.

But, he had already bought the damn thing so he couldn’t back out now. And as he looked down at his gorgeous boyfriend, a loose, bright smile plastered on his face, his arms clamped around him like a vice, his body warm and sated and realized just how lucky he was. Hinata loved him, he said it all the time. Really, there was no reason to be so hesitant.

“Happy Anniversary Hinata-boke. I love you.” Kageyama whispered.

“Happy Anniversary! And I love you too, King.” The boys chuckled warmly in the slowly cooling space, before pulling apart and heading back to the dance floor, hand and hearts entwined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh I wonder what he could have gotten him as a present? :)))


	10. Side to Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reference Song - Side to Side by Ariana Grande

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am a horrible person that I am posting this later than I originally said. But the good news is that My project is due this week so after that I should be back to posting on time.

As the DJ switched the song to a faster paced tune and most people paired off to move to the beat, Kenma watched the scene unfold in front of him. How Oikawa had obviously performed with Iwaizumi on his mind, looking only at him as he had come onstage. How Iwaizumi had reacted to the setter’s performance, the deep nail-shaped indents on his arms and the blatant tent in his jeans obvious indicators that he had _thoroughly_ enjoyed Oikawa’s routine.

Oikawa was whispering something against Iwaizumi’s ear, his hands circling around his neck and rubbing his body against the other man’s. Iwaizumi’s hands had dropped to his side, clenching hard into fists as Oikawa continued to try and, at least what Kenma saw and assumed, seduce his friend.

Kenma could see, even through his alcohol induced haze, that Oikawa had feelings for Iwaizumi. Every time Iwaizumi had left the table or had been looking elsewhere for one reason or another, Oikawa’s eyes were always on him. Searching him out. Begging him with his eyes to look back at him in the same way. And Kenma knew that look all too well, seeing as he had directed the same look at Kuroo almost his entire life.

Kenma walked away from the two men towards an empty clear, acrylic, high top table, ordering another shot of whiskey from the waitress who passed by. He watched as Iwaizumi’s hands had unclenched and shakily rose to rest on Oikawa’s hips. His head had tilted forward and it was now resting against his setter’s own forehead. His eyes had shuttered closed, but his brow was so furrowed that Kenma could feel the ace’s pain all the way across the dance floor.

Today there were just too many parallels to his own life and normally, he would have just gone off and played a game to ease the hurt and pass the time. But thankfully, now there was a newer, more numbing way to distract himself.

He threw the shot back in one swallow.

The burn had long since dissolved away, his throat having gone numb to the alcohol at this point. But no matter how many drinks he threw back, no matter how hard he tried to forget, it looked like the saying ‘to drown your sorrow’ did not apply this time. It seemed sorrow could swim quite well actually. _Well, at least it could float well_.

Kenma pushed his hand through his hair, random spots getting stuck in the sticky drops of alcohol still left on his fingers. He nudged some strands off his forehead, dotted lightly with sweat, and threw the glass back onto the table. Why did everyone else get to be happy except him?

Hinata had Kageyama. Iwaizumi and Oikawa would have each other, _if they would just stop being so stupidly dense_! He had never done anything bad in his life. Never broken any laws, official or unspoken. Never asked for anything he deemed outrageous from his parents, his friends, from anyone. So why was it fated that he should be doomed to a life of unhappiness and perpetual suffering, that couldn’t be dulled even with alcohol, as he longed after the one thing he could never have.

As Kenma’s watery eyes scanned the club landing here and there on different couples, mainly ones who reminded him of Kuroo. Ones who had partners who were tall, with dark hair, and were muscular but still slim.

He caught a glimpse of an orange streak walking slowly out of one of the bathrooms and knew it was Hinata finally emerging with Kageyama. He knew that if he looked over and saw them together it would just make him feel worse. Just another reminder in the sea of regret and longing that was slowly drowning him. It took all of his strength to keep his eyes down now on his glass, tracing the rim with his finger and smearing a drop of amber courage against the glass. _Don’t look. Don’t look._

But… he did look. And he knew immediately that he shouldn’t have, mentally kicking himself. The shirts of both boys were in slight disarray, some of the buttons were even off center. Hinata’s hair, that had been originally styled to try and tame the crazy locks, were now in complete disarray. Deep gouges formed valleys in the bright orange locks, probably by Kageyama’s hungry hands running through it many times. They were holding hands, their fingers entwined as they gazed at each other. Slight blushes on their cheeks, which he could see all the fucking way from over here.

They looked thoroughly fucked. They looked satisfied. They looked … happy, and so much in love.

_Fuck!_ Kenma his face in one of his hands and propped it against the table top. Groping for the shot glass with his other hand, fully intending to shoot it back. Until he realized he had only just drained it a few minutes earlier.

“I want that!” Kenma said out loud, already feeling the lump forming in his throat. The telltale sting in the corner of his eyes, signaling he was about to break down again.

“Well, Kozume-chan…” A thick, sultry voice cooed in his ear. Kenma’s head snapped up and looked straight into Oikawa’s deep, brown eyes, flooded with alcohol and unbridled lust. He was resting an arm against the acrylic of the high top, one hip was popped out hard away from the table, which made his round cheeks press hard against his jeans. “If I may make a suggestion…”

Iwaizumi stepped up next to Oikawa, his black muscle shirt having cemented itself to his torso, outlining every ripple and bulge of rounded muscle. His body radiated pure sex. The kind that would leave you sore for a day, _no_ , a week after the fact.

His green eyes holding the same amount of thirst that was tangibly visible in his setter’s. Oikawa reached a hand up to Kenma’s face and pushed a thick chunk of his blonde ombre hair behind his ear and settled his palm against Kenma’s neck, rubbing small, slow circled over his jugular with his thumb. His pulse pounded against Oikawa’s fingers, the erotic motion making his eyes flutter shut against his better judgement.

“How about Iwa-chan and I help you forget what’s got you so down? Even if it’s just for tonight?” Oikawa pulled his hand back from Kenma and held it out in front of him in an open invitation to take it. He stared at the hand in front of him as a second hand, Iwaizumi’s, appeared next to Oikawa’s under his gaze.

His mind was going fuzzy. Too many thoughts and feelings were racing across his brain, a combination of heartbreak and incredulity.

_Why?_ Why would Oikawa and Iwaizumi be offering to help him forget, when they clearly wanted each other? And further still, why him? They had been on opposing volleyball teams in high school. They didn’t even go to the same colleges or have the same aspirations in life. They hadn’t even really seen much of each other since the last volleyball tournament in Kenma’s second year since both men were a year and grade older than him.

_And_ , he reminded himself, he had never slept with anyone before. Always holding onto the hope that Kuroo would miraculously come around and want him and only him. So, he had wanted to stay as untouched for Kuroo as possible in case that day ever came, thinking it would somehow mean something to the older boy.

_So stupid. It didn’t even matter in the end, did it._

But, as he looked on at the young men, both of whom were exuding thick, sexual power from every fiber of their beings, Kenma felt a shiver run up his spine. As the tremble reached the base of his skull and spider webbed through his brain, his reservations and feelings were shot to shit. The many reasons why this might be bad or wrong floating away as on a breeze in summer.

Swallowing hard and tamping down the last, futile voice that tried to bubble up to his brain, Kenma reached out a hand to each of the men. Grasping their hands in his sweaty palms and pulling himself up and away from the table, falling into step behind the men.

The three of them walked over onto the dance floor, both his hands grasped tightly in each of the men’s hands, as a fast, thumping song traveled through the sea of people. Oikawa moved in front of him and Iwaizumi caged him from behind, pressing tightly to his body on all sides. Kenma thought to himself, _I deserve to be happy_.

And, damnit, he was going to be. Both men had pressed in on him, but had stayed still up until this point, allowing him to start moving when he was ready and in whatever way he wanted.

Kenma had never danced much before, he just didn’t have the talent or really even the will to try. Yeah, he had played DDR at the arcade before with Hinata, but that was about it. He hadn’t even gone to the dances at school, one because he had very little rhythm and two because he was never going to be able to go with who he had really wanted to.

Tentatively, he moved his hips from side to side in what he thought was a steady rhythm. However, from the look the other two shared, that must not have been the case.

“Kozume-chan, just relax and feel the beat.” Oikawa purred against his ear as he felt the taller man’s hands skim over his hips and move them in a slow figure eight. Oikawa’s finger dug lightly into his hips, guiding him to move one hip forward and into the setter as the other hip was pushed back into the ace.

Kenma blinked a few times, each time his lids closed they stayed shut for a second longer each time. Each roll of his hips becoming more and more comfortable, the push and pull on his hips nothing more than a series of repetitive steps, just like the Konami Code. _Up, Up, Down, Down, Left, Right, Left, Right, B, A, Start_.

He felt a wall press harder into his back as Iwaizumi took another step into him, bringing him then closer into Oikawa. The movement threw off the collaborative rhythm, but only for a moment. The boys were back to a slow, heavy, gyrating rhythm within a few measures of music.

Kenma tilted his head back, resting on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, as his hands ran over Oikawa’s wide palms and up his arms. As his hands reached Oikawa’s shoulder’s, the song changed to showcase heavier, most base thumping notes.

Oikawa changed up the pace on his hips and nudged one of his thighs between Kenma’s, cocking one hip forward and rolling the blonde’s hips back and forth, no longer in a figure eight but in a sensual circle.

The change in pace and rhythm brought into sharp focus that Kenma was aroused. Oikawa’s thigh was rubbing up and against him, sending crackles of friction along his length, jacking up his libido. And he knew both men were feeling the same, if the hot length pressing against his own hip and thigh in the front and along the cleft of his ass were any sort of indicators.

Maybe this was his chance. To throw caution completely to the wind and do everything and have everything he had ever dreamed of done to him. Maybe he could finally know what it feels like to have his body pleased by someone else instead of his own hand or his baby blue, 7-speed vibrator.

Grinding his erection into Oikawa’s thigh, he chased the friction his throbbing cock so desperately craved. The denim catching against denim, allowing his to slide in his loose boxers against the firm, muscled thigh between his legs.

Focusing all his attention on the men surrounding him, he slammed the box closed in his mind. The box that held everything Kuroo, and just allowed himself to feel.

***

Kuroo had been completely convinced that if he had just crawled under his covers and ignored the incessant pounding on his door, then Bokuto would give up and leave him alone. He was already feeling shitty enough as it was and didn’t need anyone else to comment on the absolute clusterfuck he had made of his life.

What he hadn’t considered, or remembered, was the fact that Bokuto had a key to his dorm. When he heard the door click open, he shot out of bed and sprinted into the main living area as Bokuto and Akaashi filed into his living room. If he got there fast enough, maybe he could collide with them hard enough to shove them back out the door.

But, no such luck as the two men stood in his living room. One quiet and reserved, glancing around the room after kicking off his loafers. The other, incessantly boisterous and showing no concern for others and how hard they work to keep their houses clean as he came into the main area of the dorm with his shoes still on his feet.

“Hey Tomcat!” Bokuto bellowed. His trademark smirk plastered onto his face and his precisely gelled and styled grey and black hair standing straight up on his head. “What on earth are you wearing? I told you were going out!” Bokuto gestured to his old, red Nekoma sweat pants and ratty t-shirt with the blue and yellow Mikasa Volleyball logo printed across the chest.

“Bokuto, I told you I wasn’t feeling up to going out tonight.” Kuroo huffed as he drug his hand down his face roughly. Bokuto made a “ _ppbff_ ” noise and waved a hand in the air in front of him as he headed towards Kuroo’s closet in his bedroom, leaving the two other boys to follow in his wake. Like chicks following the mother hen, except Bokuto would not be Kuroo’s first choice for _mother_ material.

“Akaashi, what do you think Kuroo will look best in? This purple shirt and black slacks that makes him look like a sexy grape, or this red shirt, black vest combo that says ‘I may look like your prom date from high school, but I’m no cherry boy?” Bokuto ogled the two combos with such seriousness on his brow, he could have burned a hold through each shirt with the intensity of his stare.

_What the fuck was with the fruit references?_ Bokuto looked at the young man he had come into Kuroo’s dorm with, holding each clothing combo up to Kuroo’s chest one at a time. Akaashi just stood in the corner of Kuroo’s bedroom, his face similar to Kenma’s in the fact that his expression very infrequently gave anything away.

“Bokuto. Maybe there is a reason “Pain-in-the-ass-Kuroo-san” doesn’t want to go out. A reason that maybe he doesn’t want to tell us about.” Akaashi’s blue jeans colored eyes flashed to Kuroo, almost daring him to deny that there was an ulterior reason that he was being so reticent about leaving his dorm. Kuroo tilted his chin down and stared back at Akaashi, _shut up_.

“Oya oya?” Bokuto dropped both sets of clothes and twisted his head rapidly between Akaashi and Kuroo. Which make him look even more like an owl than his name and personality already implied for him. _Like and owl watching a tennis match_.

“It’s nothing. Just let it go.” Kuroo said scooping up the scattered clothes from the floor and shoving them haphazardly into his dresser. _Crap_ , he was going to have to iron out the wrinkles later since he used those shirts for his teaching observations, fruit and prom dates aside.

Kuroo felt his body get turned around roughly and his hands were clasped between Bokuto’s larger ones, held out away from his body as Bokuto began belting out a tone-deaf rendering of Frozen’s “Let It Go”.

Bokuto had become obsessed with Disney back when he was a kid, and Frozen was one of his favorites. Followed closely by Fox and the Hound, _because of the owl no doubt_. Kuroo’s ears were ringing and he was getting dizzy from the spinning when everything immediately stopped.

Bokuto’s face was directly in front of his and was examining the side of his face very intensely, gently poking his cheek with his finger. It took Kuroo a moment to realize that his friend had seen the swollen lump on his cheek.

“Kuroo. What happened?” Bokuto’s face showed none of the man’s typical care-free smugness. The telltale signs of fury increasing by the minute, like a dad who had just heard that a boy had hurt his precious daughter’s feelings, making his eyes flash violently. He felt sorry for any would be son-in-laws that got Bokuto as a father-in-law.

He pushed out of the other man’s grip and readjusted his t-shirt, which had ridden up around his abs from Bokuto’s terrible dancing. Both men were staring at him and he hated being in the spotlight. If he was teaching, it was a different story, at least he was doing something. Now, it was just his friend worrying about him and he had nothing he could do except tell them the truth. But he didn’t think he could do it.

“I told you, Bokuto. Nothing happened. Nothing that I didn’t completely, 100% deserve. So please, just drop it.” Kuroo sunk down onto the edge of his bed, pushing a hand through his hair and exhaling harshly.

Thankfully, it seemed that his pleading had gotten through to the thick-skulled man. But then again, he had always been dense when it came to affairs of the heart. _For God’s sake, it had taken Akaashi two years and pretty much had to jump Bokuto before he figured it out that he liked him!_

Kuroo felt the bed dip next to him and his face get turned up gently, looking not into Bokuto’s “owl-like” mug, but into Akaashi’s cool and calm one. Akaashi turned his head from side to side, gently prodding at the slowly forming welt on his cheek.

If Akaashi had pulled out his stethoscope he would have really looked the part of the doctor he was studying so hard to be. His typical bravado clawed at the surface, _make a joke, tell a story, do something!_ But he couldn’t. He just let Akaashi gently inspect his bruised face in silence.

“So, what did you do to receive such a shiner?” The self-assured young man began to rummage through his pockets, pulling a small circular container and shook out a few small round white pills. “Bokuto-san, can you get him a glass of water so he can take these.”

As Bokuto huffed out of the room, obviously upset he was going to miss part of the conversation, Aakashi pressed the pills into his hand. “Ibuprofen, to help reduce the swelling.”

“Thanks, Akaashi-san.” Rolling the small pills in his hand, turning them over and running a finger over the small numbers and letters that had been imprinted into the pills, Kuroo released a heavy breath. The weight of all of it was becoming too much and crashing down on him hard.

“You know, I could just tell Bokuto to hoof it and then you could have doctor-patient confidentiality if you need to talk about it.” Akaashi asked softly.

“You aren’t a doctor yet, Akaashi-san. And if that’s how you get people to trust you, they may never give you your license.” Kuroo chuckled wryly.

“Never the less, whatever it is, I can see it is eating you up inside. But you don’t seem overly traumatized, so that tells me that whatever happened you were willing to accept the consequences for.” Kuroo couldn’t fault Akaashi for his sharp eyes and wit.

He dealt with Bokuto on a daily basis so he always had to be on the lookout for his intense mood swings. And dealing with potential doctors, many of whom did not show their feelings outwardly, had made Akaashi an astute reader of people’s feelings.

“OYA! Don’t kick me out! He’s my friend too and I want to help!” Bokuto roared as he practically ran into Kuroo’s bedroom. The water in the glass he was holding having mostly sloshed out at this point in his haste to try and not miss any of the conversation.

Akaashi pointedly glared at Bokuto as he looked at the less than half full glass in the man’s large hand. Kuroo just smiled sadly and took the glass from his friend, popping the pills in his mouth and washing them down in one swallow.

As Kuroo rolled the glass between his hands, he contemplated if he was ready to tell his friends about Kenma. He knew they wouldn’t hate him because, _hello_ , they were both gay too. _And together, on top of that_. So, they were actually, _probably, most likely_ , the best choices he could make to come out to. However, it was still hard. Living with this secret for so long, it was like a poison. Slowly strangling him, causing him to drown in his own blood.

Kuroo glanced up at the two men, both of whom had their own expression of concern plastered on their faces. “Okay, this is gonna be a long story and it might take me a while to get through it, so please don’t rush me.” Bokuto went and sat on the other side of Kuroo and he felt two separate hands gently land on his back.

“Don’t worry Tomcat, we’re here for you. Take your time.” Kuroo took a deep breath of resignation and the words just started tumbling out. About Kenma. About his mother. About Nowaki.

All of it.


	11. Tonight I'm F**king You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will we finally see some Kuroken interaction? Who knows!
> 
> Song - Tonight I'm F**king You - Enrique Iglesias (The Explicit version, none of that tame shit!)

After all that he had told Bokuto and Akaasi, pouring his heart and most definitely not crying, how had they still managed to convince him that going out was a good idea? Kuroo sat at one of the high-top tables in the club, gently swirling his gin and tonic, watching the ice cubes chase after each other.

Bokuto and Akaashi had abandoned him, ‘just for a few dances’, about 30 minutes ago, in favor of grinding against each other on the dance floor. _Self-centered bastards._

But he couldn’t really fault them. Before today, he probably would have been doing the same with some unnamed chick, maybe thinking about taking her home soon. It wasn’t their fault he was now residing in a pit of self-loathing and despair because he hadn’t had enough self-control to keep it in his pants.

_Kenma._ His shoulders slumped forward as he replayed today’s events. Why hadn’t he just turned Nowaki down on the spot? If he was in love with Kenma as much as he said he was, why had he slept with another guy when he had held back from sleeping with guys in general? Always holding out hope that if the opportunity ever arose, he had wanted Kenma to be the first guy he slept with.

But now? That happy little fantasy was now shot to shit.

Sure, he had slept with more girls than he could count on all of his digits, toes included, but this time it was somehow different. Now what was he going to say if Kenma ever came to him, wrapped his small arms around him, and told him proudly that he wanted to be together?

What would he say? _That would be a dream come true Kenma, I have loved you for so long that I even didn’t sleep with any guys just in case. Except, wait, that’s not true anymore because I fucked up and slept with a guy from my education classes. If it makes you feel any better, it didn’t really mean anything to me, it meant more to him, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to speak to me ever again after what I did to him._

He just felt so… dirty. His insides felt blackened and his stomach felt like it had a film of oil in it, making him feel sick. His arms and legs felt like they weighed a ton, and his heart? His heart was nonexistent in his chest. He could feel the organ beating, knew he was still alive because he was also breathing, but when he thought of Kenma, he no longer was flooded with that all-encompassing warmth. Now it was just guilt and darkness, inky and black as it seethed into his heart and body.

Thankfully though, it seemed his companions were heading back to the table now, pulling him out of his self-hating downward spiral. _Probably just to get a drink before heading back out._

As the couple sat down on either side of him, he raised his glass to his lips, taking a good long drag on the clear cocktail. The pine-y taste reminding him of walking through the forest in the summer, while the sweetness of the tonic water soothed the burn, the carbonation tickling his nose.

“Heeeeeeeeey, Tomcat!” Bokuto slurred into Kuroo’s ear. “Keiji, _hic_ , Keiji and I, we was talkin’ and we decided you should dance wit someone to help you feel better.” Bokuto leaned against Kuroo’s shoulder hard, one arm thrown over his shoulders. Kuroo looked to Akaashi for help, but was met with an unsympathetic, if not slightly embarrassed gaze.

“I deal with him every day, I’m taking a break.” He said as he got up, hurriedly to hide his mortification at Bokuto using his first name in public, to get them another round of drinks. Jerk face! Kuroo reached up and peeled his friend’s arm off him, setting Bokuto as securely as he could into his own seat as Akaashi returned to the table with three shot glasses of amber liquid. He slid them across the table, each man getting a glass in front of him.

“HEY, HEY, HEY!” Bokuto hooted, “Whiskey! Nice chois, Keiji, my love!” Kuroo rolled his eyes hard at what a lightweight Bokuto was, as Akaashi fumed in his seat. Bokuto was going to get an earful tomorrow morning, no doubt. He had always been that way too, and it was always a little bit of a shock to see such a tall, thick man get taken down after a couple of ounces of alcohol.

“We need to toast!” Bokuto raised his glass in the air, spilling about half of his shot onto the table. “Oooooops, _ppppbbbb_!” Bokuto’s lips bubbled against each other as he tried to contain a laugh in his mouth, failing miserably.

“To our collective continued success in our endeavors.” Akaashi enunciated.

“To Tomcat finding someone tonight, and getting’ _bizzay_!” Bokuto howled with laughter.

“To finding happiness.” Kuroo stated dejectedly. He closed his eyes and threw the shot back. The whiskey went down smooth, leaving a warm trail from his tongue down to his stomach. Akaashi must have gotten top shelf whiskey since the flavor was full and bold, yet it didn’t have an afterburn like jet fuel.

Tapping his glass down on the table, he opened his eyes, not sure if he was ready to enter into another conversation about how him getting laid tonight was going to assuage his feelings of guilt and despair.

But when he glanced up to look at the pair, he was momentarily taken aback. Both Akaashi and Bokuto’s eyes were blown wide, their glasses perched precariously at the entrance of their mouths, the golden liquid still in their glasses. And they were staring at something over his shoulder with GREAT interest. or was that horror, he wasn’t sure.

Kuroo shifted to turn around and see what they were so enthralled with, when two sets of arms shot out to hold him in place. Completely baffled, Kuroo just stared at the couple, waiting for either of them to offer any sort of explanation.

After a moment of holding his arms, and more staring over his shoulder, the two men looked at each other, seeming to communicate telepathically. _Hello, what is going on!?_ Then, in synchronization, they released his arms, allowing him his freedom once again.

“Just, don’t freak out.” Was all the explanation Akaashi offered to appease Kuroo’s racing mind. It didn’t help at all.

Turning swiftly in his chair, almost tipping it over, he scanned the vast space behind him. He looked up towards the VIP area, at the DJ, at the mass of limbs and grinding bodies on the dance floor. He saw nothing that was out of the ordinary or that would cause his friends to…

And then he saw it. A small blond haired boy with black roots pressed up between two taller men, both of who were grinding into the boy. His eyes must have been playing tricks on him. He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars and looked again.

The two men he recognized immediately, having seen them across the volleyball net numerous times in high school. Oikawa, with his self-centered smirk and perfect hair, and Iwazumi’s perpetual scowl and thick body. But what his eyes were seeing between them and his brain was trying so hard to deny …. was Kenma.

Kenma was out … in public … dancing … and not with just one guy, but TWO!

_What the fuck!_

Kuroo felt his body being pulled backwards. Tearing his eyes away from the seemingly impossible scene in front of him, he saw Akaashi gripping his arm and pulling him back back towards the table to sit in his chair. _When did I start moving?_

“Kuroo,” Akaashi said calmly, “Kuroo, look at me.” Akasshi had transitioned seamlessly into his doctor voice, deep and commanding and leaving no room for refusal. Kuroo forced himself to focus on the serious man in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bokuto fidgeting harshly, glancing between the men at the table and the men on the dance floor.

“I-I don’t understand…” was all Kuroo could get out of his mouth. Since when did Kenma start liking guys? _Hell_ , when did he start liking other people in general. Kenma had a bunch of close friends, but none of them would he have considered close enough to dance like _that_ with.

“I thought he didn’t like anyone like that. Why wouldn’t he tell me? And why the _FUCK_ is he dancing with “resting-bitch-face” Iwaizumi and the “walking-pheromone-factory” that is Oikawa?!?!” Kuroo was starting to lose his cool with each passing second, different emotions and realizations clawing at his chest and boiling his brain.

“Kuroo. You need to breathe. You’re gonna pass out if you keep huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf.” Kuroo hadn’t realized but he was dragging in breaths and pushing them out harshly at an alarming rate, like a bull that had just seen the matador’s red cape. His mind was just so jumbled. _Why?_ He had always been by Kenma’s side. Tried on so many occasions to draw him out of his shell and consider Kuroo as a potential dating prospect.

Okay, in all honesty, maybe he hadn’t tried as hard as he could have. But he never even got an inkling from Kenma that he even liked anyone of the human race, himself included. He seemed much more content with his 2-D worlds and the characters in them.

Which is why he never truly made a move on him. He did try once or twice when he pretended to be drunk, but Kenma had never taken the bait so he let it go. He was satisfied with just being near Kenma, even if his love was destined to be unreciprocated.

But … but this wasn’t fair.

Kuroo closed his eyes and focused on his breathing.

In … 1…2…3… Out 1…2…3…

Kenma wasn’t his. He didn’t have any sort of claim to Kenma’s mind, let alone his body.

In …1…2…3… Out 1…2…3…

He actually had no right to even say anything about Kenma’s choices when he looked at who he had been with in the past. Ancient past and “just-a-few-hours-ago” past.

Kuroo stopped his counting as he came to the realization that Kenma didn’t owe him any explanations either. Kuroo had never come out and told him how he felt, and now he was acting like a spoiled toddler who just got their toy stolen, and now he wanted it back.

He had waited too long. He hadn’t spoken out early enough. And now Kenma was looking for what he wanted in other people. People who were not him.

Kuroo was afraid that if he opened his eyes now, he would not only be crying, but crying tears of blood. The whole inside of his body felt on fire, frozen, and ripped to shreds at the same time. The pain was more intense than anything he had ever felt, and he had sprained his wrists and ankles more times than he could count.

He just wanted to go home. Go home, and become the next Rip Van Winkle and sleep for years. Maybe drink the entire case of beer he had in the pantry at home. Maybe go out and find someone who could just knock him out. Anything that could get him to forget this whole shitty day.

Kuroo opened his eyes and looked past Akaashi and Bokuto’s concerned stares, looking at nothing in particular. Standing up from his chair, his legs somehow supporting him even though they had gone numb, he mumbled something to his friends about going home and turned to leave. Purposefully avoiding looking towards the dance floor.

But when Kuroo got to the door, his heart had taken over and KO’d his brain. This was going to be goodbye. He was going to let Kenma go so he could be happy, he was not going to stand in his way, he was going to let him be with who he wanted even if it wasn’t him. Even if it killed him, Kuroo only wanted Kenma to be happy.

Hand on the doorknob to exit the club, he turned his head, not even having to scan the crowd, remembering exactly where Kenma was.

Kenma’s head was tilted back against Iwaizumi’s shoulder. His hand tangled in the short black strands at the base of the taller man’s skull, holding his head against the pale column of his neck. One of Oikawa’s legs was wedged between Kenma’s thighs, rocking back and forth as his hands slipping under Kenma’s shirt.

He watched as Kenma’s mouth flew open on what he assumed was a very audible moan, if Oikawa’s shit-eating grin was an indication.

Kuroo gripped the doorknob hard enough that if it hadn’t been made of metal, he would have left an imprint of his hand on it. His teeth creaked against each other as he bit down hard, willing his body to leave, to not look, to save himself the heartache that was surely going to haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life.

Just as he was about to turn and leave for good, he saw Oikawa’s head inch closer to Kenma. Bending down at the waist to bring his face in line with Kenma’s.

_No!_

Kuroo didn’t feel his legs turn away from the door. He didn’t feel the multiple bodies he knocked into as he rushed towards the trio. All he felt was white hot anger powering his body, lightning shooting out through his limbs and shutting down his brain, letting instinct take over.

He arrived next to the group just as Oikawa’s mouth connected with Kenma’s.

A veil of red slammed down in front of his eyes as his fist connected with Oikawa’s annoyingly perfect face. Only one though, one single, solitary word, banged around inside Kuroo’s skull as he heard the satisfying, slightly wet sounding _smack_ of fist meeting cheekbone.

_Mine!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm a terrible human being, but at least the chapter got up on Saturday! Curse you Spring Break and having crappy wifi coverage! 
> 
> But there was at least Kuroo and Kenma in the same room! Next chapter I promise has some actual interaction. And then maybe the chapter after will be another explicit chapter but between our favorite Iwa-chan and his Oikawa!


	12. Not Strong Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for reference: Not Strong Enough – Apocalyptica

Kenma was very confused.

One second he was nearing the edge of his very first orgasm, ever, that he wasn’t going to be directly responsible for, and now he was sprawled out on the floor. His body trapped between Oikawa and Iwaizumi, his face pressed into the sticky floor.

_Seriously?_ They weren’t going to keep going right in the middle of the club. Were they?

However, Kenma realized something wasn’t right when he heard screaming. And not the kind of screaming that came from calling out songs for the DJ to play, or the occasional full clubbed “WOO”.

No, this screaming was angry. Commanding. Possessive. He felt hands press deep between his shoulder blades as someone springboard off his body, grinding his chest deeper into the floor and his hips closer to the other body that was half under him.

He had only closed his eyes for a moment. Oikawa’s cheeks had been tinged pink, his eyes hazy and his lids low, his whole body had screamed of rough, bed breaking sex as he had slowly inched closer to Kenma, towards his mouth.

If his brain hadn’t been swimming in alcohol like a fish in a bowl, he might have put up some more resistance. He was still a virgin, yes, and he had wanted to remain that way, and would have been happy to stay thus forever.

At least up until earlier. It had been another stupid fantasy of his, that if Kuroo had ever come to him, his heart on his sleeve, confessing to Kenma that he wanted to be with him, he was going to be as close to a pure, untouched maiden as possible.

_Maiden? The fuck? Okay. WAY too much alcohol._

The side of his face was pressed into the floor, sticky with various spilled _fluids_ and littered with empty cups, cigarette butts, and _was that a thong? Yech!_ It was as he was pulling his face off the floor, bracing his weight on his arms, that he saw Oikawa next to him, both his hands were up around his right eye. A low, pained moan escaping the brunette’s mouth as he rocked back and forth on the floor.

Kenma blinked slowly, trying to force his eyes to focus and his brain to comprehend what he was seeing, except he was even more confused now. _So, they weren’t on the floor to continue? Had Oikawa gotten hurt? How did that happen?_

Kenma went to reach out to the man to see if he was okay, when he registered that the club had gone almost completely silent except for the shouting voices behind him. He also could breathe easier, the air around him no longer thick with sweat, perfume, and sex. Looking around them, he noticed that the crowd had retreated a few feet away, which explained why he could breathe easier.

Oikawa’s eyes, at least the one that wasn’t being covered right now by his own hands, flashed in rage as he shot to a seated position.

“What the _FUCK_ was that for!?” Oikawa spat through clenched teeth. Oikawa’s eyes weren’t looking at him, thankfully, but behind and above his head, where the raised voices were coming from.

Shifting around until his legs became detangled from Oikawa’s and he was balanced on one of his hips, Kenma took in the sight behind him. Long, long legs. Impossibly thick thighs. A tight stomach and chest. Trademark bedhead. Kenma lost all the breath in his lungs as he realized who was standing behind him.

_Kuroo_.

But, his trademark smirk that always sent shivers along Kenma’s nerve endings wasn’t plastered to his lips. Instead, his face was contorted into a mask of fury. His lips were pulled back from his teeth in a vicious snarl, his mouth forming around harsh words. His cheeks were painted scarlet from what seemed like an intense effort to not self-destruct. His eyes no longer their typical warm hazel but demonic black, thanks in part to the low lighting in the club.

Kenma’s body began to shake uncontrollably. He had never seen Kuroo like this. He was always the cunning captain. Cool in all situations, provoking others with his wit and teasing. Kuroo had never been intentionally mean to anyone, as far as Kenma knew. If he ever had been, it had never been on purpose.

But this, this was a feral form of Kuroo that sent fingers of apprehension and lust jolting through Kenma’s body. He was wary. He was apprehensive. He was incredibly turned on and horny. But he wasn’t afraid. No matter what Kuroo looked like at this moment, he would never hurt him, that much Kenma knew for certain.

It was only then that Kenma realized that Kuroo’s hand was fisted in the front of Iwaizumi’s shirt, and Iwaizumi had adopted a similar pose. Each man screaming into the other’s face.

“Have you lost your mind?! What the hell was that for Kuroo?” Iwaizumi spat.

“If you and Oikawa want to act like bitches in heat, that’s on you, but don’t drag Kenma into it!” Kuroo’s arm started to shake from the intensity of the hold he had on Iwaizumi.

“This doesn’t concern you!” Iwaizumi said with a slight air of incredulity. “Kozume is allowed to make his own choices about who he spends his time with.”

Kenma and Oikawa had since fully untangled themselves and had somehow managed to get into a standing position with the help of Hinata and Kageyama. Kenma started to weave on his feet from the combination of alcohol and bumping his head on the floor, but thankfully Hinata had come to stand next to him, checking him over and making sure he wasn’t too terribly hurt.

“Oh, that is where you are _SO_ wrong!” With that, Kuroo’s eyes slide over to Kenma, hotly tracing his entire form from the top of his bicolor hair down to the soles of his sneaker clad feet.

Another rush of pleasure shot through Kenma as he stood there under Kuroo’s gaze. A lightning bolt traveling from his brain, down through his spine, and then straight into his dick, making it stand at attention in an instant. His body bowed towards his best friend, hips first, as if his brain was no longer the one in control of his body, instead letting his libido take the reins.

Kenma saw Kuroo’s eyes widen and his pupils blow to the very outside edges of the hazel colored spheres, as he roughly shoved Iwaizumi away. He stalked toward Kenma, muscles rolling, raw power hidden just under the surface like a panther about to strike. Kenma wondered what it would be like to be bitten and devoured by this man, and his knees turned to jelly. Almost dropping him to the floor for the second time in less than ten minutes. He felt a warm vice lock onto his wrist as his body was pulled forward.

“Come on Kenma, we’re leaving.” Not a request, a command. And seeing as Kenma had never been able to say no to Kuroo before, this new voice he was using specifically for him made it impossible to do anything other than follow him wherever he led.

What would that voice sound like in bed, whispered next to his ear? Across his nipples? Around his cock? Kenma’s eyes rolled back in his head at the thought of Kuroo above him, thrusting hard into his body, slowly turning him into a quivering puddle of sensation. That deep, powerful voice he was using right now would then be rumble across his heated skin, down to his very core, letting Kenma know _exactly_ what Kuroo wanted him to do, leaving no room to deny him any command he gave.

_Fuck!_

Just as Kenma was ready to fall at the erotic mercy of Kuroo’s feet, he felt his other arm being pulled in the opposite direction, halting his forward momentum. His shoulders shifting and popping slightly in their sockets.

“He’s not going anywhere. We were having a good time Kuroo, quit interfering.” Oikawa was the one who was holding Kenma’s other wrist, one hand still pressed against his eye.

_Wait…_ Realization hit Kenma like a freight train.

“Kuro … did you … _punch_ Oikawa-san?” Using the nickname Kenma had given him as a child made Kuroo looked down at him, his eyes still burning in his skull. He continued to stare at Kenma for another moment, not giving him a verbal conformation or denial of the boy’s assumption. _Which is in itself a conformation, idiot._ “Why did you do that?”

The look that flitted across Kuroo’s features was one that Kenma was not familiar with. It seemed to be a mix between anger, disbelief, and intense sadness. Kind of like a sad puppy who had just gotten yelled at for peeing on the carpet. It looked like Kuroo just wanted to smack himself in the face and leave.

“I-I thought they were taking advantage of you. I was just trying to help.” Kuroo said, the macho stance he had taken on was quickly draining from his body. But not his hand. The hand around his wrist was still burning hot and tight.

Kenma cocked his head to the side, his hair slipping across his face to follow the movement. _Why? Why would you do that?_

“As you can see, Kozume-chan did not need rescuing, especially not from you Kuroo.” Oikawa seemed to be regaining some of the control he had lost in the scuffle. He popped one hip out to rest his other hand on it, revealing the area around his eye that was more than likely going to be black and blue tomorrow, based on the swelling that was already setting in.

The grip he had on Kenma’s wrist was completely different then Kuroo’s. Where Kuroo’s was painfully firm, implying that Kenma had no other choice than to go with him, Oikawa’s was gently secure, allowing him to make the choice for himself as to what he wanted to do. To stay with them, or to go with Kuroo. “In fact, Kozume-kun seemed to be feeling _really_ good if the way his body was reacting to Iwa-chan and me was any indication.”

Kenma had almost completely forgotten about that, but now he blushed so red he looked like a plump, fresh, Red Delicious apple. He had been thinking that if he couldn’t have Kuroo, then he was at least going to try and feel as good as he could. And if that happened to involve someone, _or multiple someones_ , else then so be it.

Kenma flew through the air as he was pulled in one direction, his hair whipping around his face as his body slammed into a taller, muscular one. One that didn’t smell like pink grapefruit and gardenia, but of leather and peppermint.

_Holy crap!_ Kuroo’s body. He was pressed up against Kuroo’s body. Kenma’s mouth dropped open and he started breathing heavily. Kuroo’s musk filled his senses as he felt his body mold to the hard planes of Kuroo torso, his face pressed in between his pecs.

Kenma could feel Kuroo’s heart beat under his nose, his forehead, his lips; and he was so tempted to place a kiss over the spot. To run his lips and tongue from the organ that pumped his life’s blood out to his body, and following the different paths it could take. Whether that be up his chest and neck, or down his torso and pooling near his groin.

“Kenma,” _Damnit, Give me a minute!_ This was what he had been waiting his whole life for, and Hinata was ruining it. Using much more force than was necessary in the given situation, Kenma shifted his head so that he could shoot daggers at his friend. His ear was now pressed to Kuroo’s chest instead of his lips; the solid, deep _ba-dump, ba-dump_ of Kuroo’s heartbeat pounding so loud in his ears, he almost couldn’t hear Hinata’s next warning.

Hinata was staring at a spot behind Kuroo’s head with alarm etched in his face. “The bouncer is coming. We should leave before we get in trouble.” Kenma felt Kuroo’s body stiffen, but he didn’t turn to look over his shoulder. He just felt Kuroo’s arm tighten sound his shoulders, a band of steel keeping him in place.

“Then let me say this quick,” Kuroo practically hissed through clenched teeth. “Leave Kenma out of you and Iwaizumi’s twisted sex-capades. If you two are really that hard up, just go fuck each other. It is so painfully obvious you both want to. The sexual frustration between you too is so palpable, and has been since I first met you, that I can taste it.” Kenma blanched at Kuroo’s words. Or at least he would have if the alcohol hadn’t painted his cheeks a deep scarlet already.

Kenma opened his mouth, ready to ask Kuroo why he was here in the first place and on top of that why he was acting like such a dick-wad, when the bouncer finally reached them. Kenma felt himself get pulled roughly from the solid warmth of Kuroo’s body as they were ushered out of the club.

Kenma’s first clubbing experience, and he gets kicked out. _That’s kinda cool,_ he snickered into his palm.

Outside the club wasn’t much different than inside. It was still muggy, thick with the promise of rain, compounded with the higher temperatures that indicated summer vacation was fast approaching. The side alley, into which they had been unceremoniously dropped off, smelled heavily of cigarettes, trash, and despair. The only main difference between being inside the club and outside was that there were less people in this new environment.

_Definitely an improvement._

As Kuroo huffed at the bouncer walking back inside, Kenma took the opportunity to admire Kuroo’s absolutely perfect backside. His shoulders were wide, and his biceps helped to stretch the deep purple, short-sleeved button down across the wide expanse of his chest. _Mmmmm, grape flavored_! Kenma felt his tongue peak out of the corner of his mouth and lick a wide arc across his bottom lip, imagining the bright, fruity flavor dancing across his tongue.

Kenma’s fingers twitched as his eyes followed the strong lines of Kuroo’s back and down to his hips. His hands wishing they could leave his side and flutter against the crisp fabric and sinewy muscle underneath.

“Come one Kenma, let’s go home.” Kenma’s eyes almost screamed in protest as Kuroo turned around to face him and his eyes were forced up to look at the man in front of him. Thirty more seconds and he could have been admiring his ass. _His perfect, round, firm, volleyball toned ass._

Kuroo started walking towards the main street at the end of the alley, and Kenma stumbled to follow behind him. He tripped over his own shoe when one foot knocked into another, almost face planting on the asphalt when he tried to step over a cardboard box and severely miscalculating the height of it. He let out a deep belly laugh when he realized that he could have almost just died, and almost fell over again.

Kenma walked into a hard wall in front of him, which, he realized once he backed away, was Kuroo. He must have stopped in the middle of the street, since he was glancing over his shoulder with an odd expression of his face. Kuroo let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose before bending forward at the waist and dropping down on his haunches.

“Get on.” His eyes locked with Kenma’s and took his breath away. Kuroo’s hands extended behind himself, gesturing for Kenma to come closer and get on his back. Kenma blushed and hesitated.

“Kuroo, I’m nah a child. I can walk all by myself, y’know? I’m a big boy now.” Kenma thumbed himself in the middle of his chest and puffed up, as if to make his argument more believable, more solid.

“Kenma. You can either get on my back or I will carry you like a princess all the way back to our dorm. Which is it gonna be?” There was no hint of Kuroo’s usual teasing in his voice. It was laced with that heavy commanding tone from before. Kenma took a step forward without thinking, ready to do anything Kuroo asked without hesitation.

_But,_ Kenma thought, _but why was he so upset before?_

"Fine. I’ll let you carry me on one condishon.” Kenma’s words were starting to slur, the alcohol fuzzing out his brain and twisting up his tongue. “You need ta tell me, why you got so mad Kuro. Is not like you to get mad like that for no reason.”

Kuroo didn’t answer him. He just stared at Kenma, a look of utter confusion mixed with a bone deep hurt that had Kenma taking a small step back from the force of it.

He didn’t look away from Kuroo’s stare, even though his brain was swimming and wanted him to look around and notice every single thing in the alley. From the puddle by his foot, to the crushed soda can near the dumpster, to the rhythmic bumping sound that was coming from behind said dumpster down at the other end of the alley that sounded suspiciously like …

“Okay. I’ll tell you. But, can we talk back at home? I don’t really want to say it out here.” Kenma felt his heart flutter in his chest, like he was back inside the club standing in front of one of the large speakers, letting the deep base of the music dictate how fast or slow his heart was allowed to beat.

_What on earth could be so secretive or embarrassing that he couldn’t say it here?_

Kenma gave a slight nod of his head and stepped up to Kuroo’s back. Raising his hands, he let them trail along the strong line of Kuroo’s back, starting at the juncture of his neck and shoulder he gently rubbed outwards. As he gripped Kuroo’s shoulders, he pressed his body weight over his back. Kuroo’s warmth spread through Kenma’s chest and hips as he became flush with Kuroo’s body, he could have sworn he felt the man shudder beneath him. But it could have also plausibly been him wobbling on his knees that had turned to mush.

And then Kenma was suddenly taller than he had ever been. He had always been short, resigned to always needing to ask for help to reach into high cupboards and filing cabinets, yet he could climb under things like nobody’s business.

But up here, from this new vantage point, Kenma was beginning to know what heaven felt like. Being as tall as the clouds, and surrounded by the one you loved. A small smile spread across his face as the whole of his front side was pressed into Kuroo. The hard muscle providing a way for Kenma to ground himself in the swirling sea of inebriation.

Kuroo’s hands were under his ass and were holding him tightly in place so he wouldn’t fall. He burrowed his nose in Kuroo’s hair, picking up on the notes of his Old Spice Swagger shampoo. _Bold, masculine, confident_. Kenma had loved the fact that Kuroo always went for the classier scents like Old Spice instead of the “teenage-guy-just-discovering-that girls-are awesome-and-nothing-beats-boobs” feeling that came with Axe.

He would have been happier than a clam to just stay like this in Kuroo’s arms. Being held, loved, treasured. _But_ , Kenma had to remind himself, that wasn’t in the cards for him. Although, maybe he could take advantage of this night and the fact that he knew he had been drinking, so maybe Kuroo had imbibed as well.

If he could just get him in his room, maybe he could somehow convince Kuroo to sleep with him. _Just once_. He could use the argument, ‘you already slept with at least one guy, this would be no different.'

But what if Kuroo didn’t want to sleep with him and only saw him as a friend? What if he did sleep with him and then regretted it in the morning and then never spoke to Kenma again? What if …?

Kenma was pulled from his hurricane of insecurity the very instant that Kuroo moved and started walking back towards the main street again. With how tightly Kenma was pushed against Kuroo’s back, he could feel every ripple of muscle, every tug of fabric as Kuroo’s hips swung forward with each step he took. His chest rolled opposite each step added another layer of sensation; the thin fabric of Kenma’s shirt rubbed against his chest, teasing his nipples. He bit down on his bottom lip to suppress a small whine from escaping and pulled himself closer to Kuroo’s back to reduce the friction.

While the pressure on his chest was relieved, it had the unintended consequence of popping his hips out slightly and now all that delicious, warm friction was centered in his groin. Small starburst of pleasure skating across his hips, thighs, and down the length of his hardening cock. He could easily win a bet against Han Solo, his Millennium Falcon, and its ‘I can do the Kessel run in 12 parsecs’, with how fast he was getting hard.

_Breathe, dummy._

Kenma opened his mouth and tried to drag air into his lungs. However, it was difficult with how tightly he was pressed against Kuroo. And the fact that with each breath he took, his senses were flooded with Kuroo’s hard body, his smell, his heat. Kenma closed his eyes and counted each step Kuroo took, the movement shimmering throughout his whole body.

This was torture. Almost everything he had ever wanted and he still couldn’t do anything about it. The train ride had taken close to 30 minutes, and it was only a five-minute walk to the station. The pressure and friction would hopefully let up soon, otherwise he was going to orgasm all over the inside of his pants and Kuroo’s back.

He gritted his teeth, and went back to counting the steps they took. It gave his mind something else to focus on. He could do this if he could just focus.

How far could home be, really?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happened to the rest of the group after Kenma and Kuroo left? Let's find out next week! 
> 
> Hint: It is gonna be explicit!!!


	13. E.T. - Katy Perry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter for these boys. By, the way, just a warning, this is a highly explicit chapter again and it is an IWAOI chapter. This chapter does not progress the main story line, so if you are here for the main plot, come back next week. But if you are here for the smut, please enjoy! This is probably the longest chapter I have written so far, that why it has taken me a bit linger to get it up here. (hehehe).
> 
> Reference song - E.T. - Katy Perry ( AKA Oikawa's theme song, in my opinion)

Iwaizumi was fuming. His hands fumbled as he tried to get the key into the lock to open the door to his apartment. What was usually a mundane task, easily accomplished at least twice a day, once when he left in the morning, and then again when he returned in the evening, was now anything but.

This particular trip was made inexorably more difficult due to the fact that Oikawa was draped across his back and shoulders. One arm slung around his neck, having decided that once they had gotten off the elevator onto their floor, his legs didn’t know how to work anymore and just clung to Iwaizumi’s back, his feet dragging the ground.

“Iwaaaaaa-chaaaaan” Oikawa whined like a toddler against the back of his neck and shoulders. “Hurry up, I want to get inside and put an ice pack on my eye.” The man sobbed. _Drama queen._

Iwaizumi breathed a sigh of relief as the lock disengaged and the door swung up, revealing the dark entryway of their shared 2LDK apartment. Dragging “his majesty” through the doorway and making sure they both removed their shoes, Iwaizumi proceeded to drag both of them into the living space. He dumped Oikawa unceremoniously onto their ratty, olive green couch once he got up next to it, remembering where it was from memory much more than based on sight.

“Rude, Iwa-chan! I could have gotten a concussion earlier when I hit the floor, and throwing me so roughly against the couch could have just made it worse! Maybe you should take me to the hospital!” Oikawa complained as he threw an arm over his eyes, shielding them from the light in the kitchen that Iwaizumi flicked on.

“You are just being a hypochondriac, trashy-kawa and you know it.” Iwaizumi had no patience for Oikawa when he got like this, acting like a spoiled princess. He rummaged around in the freezer side of the fridge, looking for one of the bags of frozen peas they keep on hand for sports injuries.

Ignoring the whining protests coming from the other room, he pulled the frozen, green, pearl shaped veggies out from underneath a box of rocket pops, snapping a towel free from one of the kitchen drawers and wrapped the frozen bag in it. Before heading back into the living room, he filled a glass with water and snagged some ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.

“Here, take these.” Iwaizumi held out his hand that held the small white pills and the glass of water out for Oikawa to take. But he was just met with an indignant tilt of a brunette head away from his hand.

“Don’t want them. I don’t like taking pills Iwa-chan.” Iwaizumi just stood there for a moment, flabbergasted by how much a grown man could resemble a toddler. Iwaizumi had to force his hand to stay outstretched, his voice level.

“If you don’t take these pills NOW, I’m going to shove them down your throat like the dog you are and then I’m gonna give you another black eye to match the one Kuroo gave you. So, what’s it gonna be shitty-kawa?” He saw Oikawa’s good eye roll towards him, ready to make some quick comeback, but thankfully, the expression on his face must have shown no room for argument.

Leaning up from the couch, Oikawa took the glass of water, condensation droplets dripping from the bottom of the glass onto the yellowed carpet, and popped the small pills in his mouth. Iwaizumi sank onto the couch next to Oikawa and took his face in his hands. For one thing, it allowed him to turn the man’s slightly back and forth to get a better view of Oikawa’s injury. For another thing though, in case Oikawa decided to be an utter dick, he could just wrestle him to the ground and rub on his throat to get him to swallow the pills. Again, like the dog he was.

As Iwaizumi took in the red, swollen skin around Oikawa’s left eye, the deep brown color of his iris’ looked menacing against the puffy skin surrounding it. The small vessels in his eye redder than usual, but thankfully none had burst when Kuroo had decided to go ape-shit and punch him. _Seriously, what was his problem?_

As he continued to inspect Oikawa’s now, temporarily, damaged face, he brushed a stray lock of dark, auburn hair off his forehead and tucked it behind his ear. His fingers lingered on the soft skin in front of Oikawa’s ear. Rubbing at the smooth, slight indent before he trailed along the sharp line of his jaw and down column of his neck. Oikawa closed his eyes in response and swallowed hard.

The roll of his Adam’s apple was not lost on Iwaizumi as it sent a lick of energy through his body, a string pulled taut and plucked. Iwaizumi could feel the reverberations of the motion start deep in his gut and bleed out into the limbs.

Leaning forward, he hesitantly pressed his lips to the swollen skin underneath Oikawa’s eye. Then along his brown bone, stopping at the outer corner of his eye, kissing away the small amount of moisture that had collected there.

Iwaizumi could hear Oikawa’s breath catch and became heavier. His hands releasing their grip on the glass, dropping the mostly empty glass on the carpet, and came up to tangle in the front of Iwaizumi’s shirt. The cool, moist skin of his fingers played along the upper edge of his black, muscle t-shirt.

“I’m sorry Oikawa,” Iwaizumi mumbled against the shiny skin on Oikawa’s face. “I’m sorry I didn’t see him coming sooner. I should have been more aware.” Iwaizumi was almost reverent in his apology to Oikawa. They had been friends for so long and they had gone through so much together.

As irrational as it was, he didn’t want this to be the event that broke the bond they shared. Because his mind had had him grinding his aching erection against Oikawa’s ass, instead of Kozume’s. And that split second of absentmindedness had caused his best friend pain.

“Yes, you should have Iwa-chan,” Oikawa joked. “If anything happened to my volleyball career, all I have to fall back on is my looks.” Oikawa pulled back slightly from him, raising the frozen bag to his face and placing it over his eye. “Thanks for always taking care of me Iwa-chan. I guess if I ever need to I could always fall back on you, couldn’t I?” Oikawa’s voice came out a little hesitant. A little strangled. Trace amounts of apprehension whispered through the chuckle that left his lips.

Iwaizumi, emboldened by the moderate amount of alcohol he had consumed at the club, reached out his arms around Oikawa and pulled him into his chest, leaning back into the couch cushions. Taking Oikawa down with him, his weight settling perfectly against his chest and hips.

“Yes. You can always rely on me, _captain._ ” He whispered into Oikawa’s perfect hair.

That one small word brought Oikawa’s head up with a snap, and since he didn’t wince at the whiplash, Iwaizumi was quite certain that the idiot next to him was just over exaggerating about his possible concussion.

Iwaizumi had been the only one to never refer to Oikawa as the captain when they were in high school. He was just truly beginning to understand the depths of his feelings for the man back then and he hadn’t been able to really be fully comfortable around him, resorting to the nicknames he continued to use to this day. Trying to take the awkwardness off of himself in any way he could, even if that meant acting like a colossal dickhead.

But now, as he looked down into Oikawa’s eyes, he couldn’t deny his feelings any longer. And if Oikawa was going to end their friendship because he hadn’t been able to protect him, he was going to get everything off his chest now, in case the opportunity never came again.

He traced the back of his knuckles against the wound on Oikawa’s face once again, starting at his jaw and traveling upward, then back to finger the shell of his ear. As he reached Oikawa’s earlobe, he gave it a light squeeze, Oikawa’s eyes fluttered shut in response. _So far, so good._

He pushed his fingers further back into the chocolate strands of Oikawa’s hair and splayed his hand out along the back of his skull to hold him in place. For a moment, he did nothing but sit there. Oikawa’s body heavy and hot on top of his as he sprawled against Iwaizumi’s chest against the back of the couch. He watched as Oikawa’s eyes opened once again and focused on his own. He searched their warm depths for any hint of hesitation. A single ounce of reluctance.

Seeing no inkling of second thoughts in Oikawa’s eyes, he slowly, _painfully slowly_ , pulled on his head, bringing it closer to his lips. Iwaizumi darted his tongue out to wet his lips, checking to see if they were chapped or smooth. Thankfully they were mostly smooth since it was so close to summer.

He had wanted this for so long, and everything seemed to be pointing to the fact that, yes, this was in fact happening to him. To inconsequential, unknown, nothing special Iwaizumi Hajime.

He had dreamed of the lips that drew incrementally closer to his. Of what they would taste like. What they would feel like as they moved against his, as their tongues explored each other’s mouths? What they would feel like trailing down his body, stopping to suck at his nipples? Finally, how they would envelop his hard length and how his cheeks would hollow out as he sucked on his cock like a lollipop.

Inches. Mere inches and those dreams would become reality.

He almost missed the glint in Oikawa’s eye, the slight upturn at the corner of his mouth. Which were the only warnings he got before Oikawa pressed forward out of his hand and closed the distance for them, and sealed their lips together.

It was so much better, sweeter, hotter than any of his dreams could have conjured up. Oikawa was pressing small closed mouth kisses to his lips. Oikawa’s lips slightly chapped and rough against his own, adding a layer of delicious sensation. Neither of them could bring themselves to close their eyes, afraid that if they did the next time they opened them, it would be to wake from a dream.

That was until Oikawa shifted his lower body to straddle Iwaizumi’s and ground his hips down against him, causing his head to snap back and his eyes to slam shut. His hands shot out to grip onto Oikawa’s hips, holding him in place against his body. Oikawa pulled back and leaned his upper body away, tossing the semi thawed freezer bag onto the chipped coffee table behind him with a wet thud.

Oikawa braced his palms against Iwaizumi’s pecs, his hands molding to the thick pads of muscle, and slowly pulled his hips up against Iwaizumi’s. His slow, calculating movements put the heat of Oikawa’s cock in direct contact with his own. Iwaizumi bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from rolling up into Oikawa’s heat, seeking that delicious friction.

He settled his palms against Oikawa’s thick thighs, starting at his knees and lightly running his hands up towards the man’s hips. As his hands climbed closer and closer to where his fingers itched to be, Iwaizumi’s breath sped up incrementally.

His fingers flared out to circle Oikawa’s delicate hip bones underneath thick, corded muscle. His thumbs were the only digits that didn’t join the others as they traveled back towards Oikawa’s ass. Instead opting to stay forward and travel in through the juncture between his thighs and hips, rubbing sensual circles through the fabric.

Oikawa let out a sigh that was tinged with the edges of a whine, before sliding his hands from Iwaizumi’s pecs, trailing his fingertips along the harsh line of his jaw and finally cupping both sides of his face.

“Well, Iwa-chan,” his voice had dipped at least a whole octave, if not two, reverberating out of his chest. “Should we take Kuroo-chan’s advice?”

_What advice?_ Iwaizumi wracked his brain like in that episode of SpongeBob where the mini SpongeBob’s were running around frantically looking for SpongeBob’s name after he was told to forget about everything but fine dining and breathing. Oikawa was boring holes into his eyes, Iwaizumi’s life depended on him remembering and coming up with an answer.

_‘Come on baby’, what the FUCK did Kuroo say?!?!_ Iwaizumi’s eyes darted back and forth, a hummingbird on red bull, as he looked into Oikawa’s eyes for the answer.

And then it hit him. Like a freight train. So hard it knocked the wind from his lungs. _‘If you two are really that hard up, just go fuck each other. It is so painfully obvious you both want to’_. Iwaizumi’s eyes peeled wide as he tried to force air into his lungs.

_Holy shit! This isn’t a dream_.

He watched as Oikawa slowly crept closer to the side of his face, making sure to grind his hips down slowly as he bent forward as he gently nuzzled at his jaw. Iwaizumi’s fingers dug hard into the crest of Oikawa’s hip bones beneath his hands.

“Because honestly, I have always wondered what you would feel like inside of me, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa purred against his neck, the vibrations traveling across the outer shell of his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “And, what it would feel like to be inside of you, too.” Oikawa nipped hard at his earlobe; which caused Iwaizumi to buck underneath the man’s body; before he soothed the reddened skin with a slow, wet swipe of his tongue.

Iwaizumi couldn’t move and was completely convinced he had forgotten to breathe as his brain imploded at the allegation of Oikawa’s words. He wanted Iwaizumi to fuck him. Drive himself completely inside the tight warmth of his ass and make a mess of him. And Oikawa wanted to do the same to him. Teasing him until he flew apart, coming hard against either his own hand or Oikawa’s as fireworks exploded behind his eyes.

Iwaizumi swallowed hard and felt his Adam’s apple meet the slick warmth of Oikawa’s tongue as it followed the sensual bob.

“So, what’s it gonna be Iwa-chan? Another evening alone with your hand, or the fucking of your life?” Oikawa’s warm breath tickled against his ear, rusting the short black hairs on his head as he sat up and tweaked the tip Iwaizumi’s nose between his fingers.

He didn’t have to be asked twice.

As he shot to a standing position, Iwaizumi all but sprinted to his bedroom, Oikawa bouncing lightly with the steps he took. Oikawa screeched lightly before breaking out into a fit of throaty giggles. Those giggles abruptly ended though when Iwaizumi threw him sideways on the bed, his body bouncing lightly on the mattress.

Oikawa laid back on the comforter, his arms up above his head tangling in the black jersey sheets on Iwaizumi’s bed. He cocked a leg up and let it fall slightly to the side, which opened up his hips. He opened up his body to be on display, just for Iwaizumi.

He was on Oikawa faster than a hobo on a ham sandwich. His hands roaming over Oikawa’s chest, ripping the two sides of his shirt apart. His buttons flew off the fabric and pinged lightly against the walls and floor.

Their lips crashed together, tongues probing and teeth clacking against each other. He couldn’t get enough. He was drowning in Oikawa’s scent, his taste, in the feel of him beneath his body.

Oikawa impatiently pulled at the hem of Iwaizumi’s black muscle shirt, trying to pull it off of him without breaking the seal of their mouths. He pulled harshly at the halves of Oikawa’s now ruined shirt and hoisted him up against his body. Violently ripping the fabric from his shoulders and arms before pushing him back on the bed and moving to remove his own shirt.

Once Iwaizumi had tossed aside his shirt, which, he registered in a small corner of his mind had landed on the lampshade and knocked the lamp over, he glanced down at Oikawa.

_GOD!_ He looked perfect against his black sheets. His skin was like porcelain under normal circumstances, but with only the glow from the full moon shining through his window, Oikawa’s body was positively luminescent.

He took a moment to just drink in the sight before him. Oikawa panting hard, his chest rising and falling harshly. His cheeks tinged pink with arousal. His cock tenting out the front of his pants, reaching for him. His lips red, and puffy from Iwaizumi’s kisses. He had done this to Oikawa. He had made him get to this level of being aroused. He swayed on the spot, one knee digging deeper into the mattress as his body weight shifted, from the intensity of the vision before him, and the promise of what was to come.

Oikawa locked his eyes with his own and moved his arms from up behind his head to stretch out straight in front of him. His arms and fingers spread wide, urging Iwaizumi into the empty space above his beautiful body.

“Come on Iwa-chan, I can’t wait much longer!” Oikawa whined, and Iwaizumi suddenly had an idea. A dark idea. A sadistic idea.

He slowly unbuckled the belt on his pants, and watched as Oikawa’s hands dropped back down to the bed and stared hungrily at the zipper on his pants. Slowly, he pulled the leather strap free of his belt loops and folded it in on itself so half of the leather strap laid over the other.

He waited for a moment for Oikawa to look at his face again and not at his crotch, and once his eyes locked on his he pushed the two ends of the belt together and snapped them outwards quickly.

A loud _crack_ echoed around the room, bouncing off the walls and going straight to Iwaizumi’s dick, ratcheting up his pleasure. And by the way Oikawa’s eyes rolled back in his head and his body squirmed under his, he enjoyed the implication as well. Massively.

“Can you play through the pain, _captain_?” Iwaizumi teased the brunette below him. Slowly dragging his belt along the ridges of Oikawa’s abs, circling his nipples with the smooth, thin edge. Oikawa’s hands grasped at the sheets, crushing and releasing the smooth fabric. His hands seeming to not know where to go or what they wanted to do. The man’s body rising to meet the smooth leather wherever it drug across his heated skin.

Iwaizumi leaned forward, bringing his chest flush against Oikawa’s. The small smattering of coarse hair on his chest tickling and teasing against Oikawa’s bare one. Fusing their mouth together once more, Iwaizumi quickly reached into the top drawer of his nightstand and grabbed three things by touch alone. His favorite lube, Gun Oil. A handful of condoms, some flavored, some ribbed, some extra thin. _Not sure which one to use yet_.

The last item though, he kept hidden in one of his large hands up above Oikawa’s head, leaving the belt on the bed spread. He licked once, twice into Oikawa’s mouth, feeling the ridges along the upper part of his mouth behind his teeth. Small sand dunes under the crashing waves at the beach. He pulled back, planting his palms firmly into the bed on either side of Oikawa’s head, still convinced this might be a dream.

“Was that the _pain_ you talked about, Iwa-chan? I must say I’m disappointed.” Oikawa smirked up at him.

Iwaizumi growled deep in his throat, he grabbed both of Oikawa’s hands and held them in front of his own chest. Holding the brunette’s wrists in one hand, he picked up what he had dropped beside Oikawa’s head and tore the plastic off the small roll before teasing one sticky edge free of the roll.

_Fetish Tape, sticks to itself and not your skin._

Oikawa’s eyes widened as Iwaizumi began to wrap the tape around his wrists, making sure to not cut off the circulation. After a couple of passes, giving the tape time and heat for it to adhere to itself and keep Oikawa’s wrists in place, he brought the roll to his lips. He grabbed it with the edge of his teeth and tore the strip away from the roll and tossed it across the room.

Iwaizumi threw Oikawa’s hands down onto the mattress above his head once more before he clambered off the bed.

“I-Iwa-cha…” Oikawa panted harshly, before Iwaizumi began to forcefully unbutton the man’s pants and quickly pull them off his long, long legs. Once his pale limbs were bare, aside from the stupid fluorescent pink and green alien underwear, he grabbed Oikawa’s hips and flipped him onto his stomach. He reached under his hips, bringing him to rest on his knees with his ass in the air, propping his hips up using one of his pillows.

Iwaizumi traced a long finger along the upper edge of Oikawa’s underwear, slipping it under the elastic once he had passed the halfway point to begin pulling them down to reveal the dimples of his lower back. The points of his hips connected to the skin just under the surface which resulted in the mouthwatering indents. He leaned forward and tongued at the small divots in Oikawa’s back. Oikawa was shaking slightly under his tongue, breaths coming in pants and sweat moistening his skin, which tasted salty against his tongue.

Iwaizumi continued to slowly peel Oikawa’s underwear off, inch by inch revealing more and more beautiful, pale, unmarred flesh. That was until his eyes locked on a flash of black. Sitting up swiftly, he jerked the pink panties off Oikawa’s ass with a single pull, which had Oikawa squirming again against the pillow under his hips. _When did he get that?!_

Right at the crease where his right ass cheek met his thigh and almost hidden completely against his inner thigh, was a small, black swirling tattoo. Iwaizumi extended a finger and traced the simple design. It was stunning in its simplicity, standing out in stark relief against Oikawa’s skin. At least Iwaizumi thought so until he tilted his head and realized what it was a tattoo of.

“What the hell trashy-kawa! Why do you have a sideways 69 tattooed on your ass!?” Iwaizumi had nothing against tattoos, he even had one himself. On his left shoulder, a solid black outline of a volleyball with a large A in scrolling cursive in the center of the silhouette, flanked on either side by a pair of wings. Everything that had defined him in high school, which helped shape who he was today. Volleyball, wing spiker, ace.

“Iwa-chan, mean! You don’t know anything!” Oikawa struggled to sit up on his knees. “My zodiac sign is cancer since my birthday is July 20th. And the symbol for cancer is the crab, which can be represented as a sideways 69.” Oikawa was pouting now, his cheeks coloring slightly with indignation as opposed to arousal. As he glared at Iwaizumi over his shoulder, his wrists still bound with the black, stretchy tape, Iwaizumi couldn’t help but let out a deep laugh. Oikawa could be a piece of work sometimes, but he was just too cute at this moment in time for Iwaizumi to truly be upset.

Oikawa fumed silently at Iwaizumi and moved to get off the bed. Iwaizumi immediately lunged forward, hauling Oikawa’s ass against his hips.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” Iwaizumi trailed his fingers down Oikawa’s chest and abs. Feeling the slight raise of muscle under taught skin. Glancing down, Iwizumi realized he had never completely stripped Oikawa of his “E.T. panties” as they were hooked under the swell of his ass, yet still covering everything in front.

“You were making fun of me Iwa-chan. That wasn’t nice. I never made fun of your tattoo.” Oikawa started to relax against Iwaizumi’s chest. His arms and wrists came to rest between his legs, perfectly framing his erection. Which apparently hadn’t gone down even an inch during their little spat.

“I’m sorry, it caught me off guard.” Iwaizumi gently grabbed Oikawa’s bound wrists and lifted them over his own head, nestling them around the back of his neck. He was now cheek to cheek with Oikawa, the whole front of his body warmed against Oikawa’s back. They even shared the same air. He could hear his own heart beat pound in his ears as well as being able to feel Oikawa’s against his neck. “Is there anything I can do to apologize?” Iwaizumi was only half joking, because he would do anything Oikawa asked at this point, as long as they could keep going.

Iwaizumi’s hands circled forward, gripping the front of Oikawa’s hips before they traveled further down to massage at Oikawa’s length through the cotton of his underwear. Oikawa sucked in a harsh breath, his head falling back onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder. He palmed at the length under his fingertips for a few more moments before he hooked his thumbs under the elastic waistband and popped Oikawa’s erection free. Swallowing hard at the way if bobbed heavily once it was free from its pink and green prison.

He sat back on his ass and Iwaizumi settled Oikawa between his knees as he pulled the setter’s thighs up to his chest so he could fully remove his underwear and drop it off the side of the bed. Resting his broad hands on Oikawa’s knees, he gently pushed them wider apart, opening up Oikawa’s hips to Iwaizumi’s hungry stare over the man’s shoulder.

Iwaizumi’s breath hitched as he felt Oikawa’s ass push back against his cock, making Iwaizumi realize he still had his pants on and they were becoming more uncomfortable with each passing moment. But he put his own comfort from his mind for the time being, instead returning to the movement his hands were doing earlier, prying Oikawa’s thighs apart.

As he lightly trailed his fingers along the sensitive skin of Oikawa’s inner thighs, he inched closer to his cock, which was standing almost completely straight up aside from the slight bend to the right. Oikawa’s hands tried to press into the back of Iwaizumi’s shoulders to try and get him to hurry up, but Iwaizumi had waited too long for this moment and he was going to take his time savoring Oikawa’s body.

“Patience, _captain._ ” the use of that title had Oikawa’s cock bobbing violently in midair, still completely untouched.

“But, but you said you would apologize for being mean earlier.” Oikawa mewled into the side of Iwaizumi’s neck.

“Oh right, have you thought of something that would make up for my being mean then, shitty-kawa?” Oikawa went scarlet red all the way from his ears to his toes. Obviously, whatever he wanted Iwaizumi to do to him was more important, or embarrassing, than being called names.

After Oikawa continued to blush and fidget under Iwaizumi’s hands from another minute or two, he decided he was going to need to take action in order to get Oikawa to open his mouth. Which in and of itself, was an odd occurance, _he usually never shuts up._ He had never been shy before, so it confused Iwaizumi as to why he was being hesitant now.

“Come on _captain,_ you can tell me.” Iwaizumi purred against Oikawa’s ear and a full body shiver wracked through his setter’s body. He pulled his hands from Oikawa’s knees and traced small circles and obscure patterns along his quad muscles, inching closer and closer to the thick, scarlet red, drooling erection that stood out from his hips.

As his left hand settled over Oikawa’s hip, his right hand hovered in mid-air directly over the Oikawa’s length. The man whined through his nose and pushed his hips forward, seeking Iwaizumi’s palm. However, he kept a tight hold on his hip, preventing him from relieving the ache in his dick against Iwaizumi’s hand.

“If you tell me how to make it up to you, I’ll do anything you say.” Iwaizumi ground his hips forward against Oikawa’s tight ass, feeling the muscles contract at the friction. He lowered his hand so it almost made contact with the head of Oikawa’s cock before pulling it back quickly once again.

“Iwa-chan, _mean!_ ” Oikawa ground out through clenched teeth. His erection bobbing obscenely as more precum oozed from his slit. He ground hard into Oikawa’s backside and bit down, hard against his shoulder.

Both men groaned loudly, the guttural tones echoing around the small room. Iwaizumi could feel a trail of drool leave the side of his mouth as it was clamped onto Oikawa’s shoulder. Reluctantly, Iwaizumi disengaged his jaw from the tender flesh at the juncture of Oikawa’s neck and shoulder, licking a wide, wet stripe over the bite mark which had broken some blood vessels under the skin as evidenced by the double, bright red, crescent moon shaped marks.

“Just-just hurry up and tell me what you want Oikawa!” Iwaizumi panted as he continued to ghost over Oikawa’s erection, grinding his painfully rigid cock into the brunette’s ass.

“sp…k….m….ple…” Oikawa whispered, the request almost completely lost behind his breathy tone.

With a surge of frustration, Iwaizumi removed the hand that was teasing the air around Oikawa’s cock and fisted it hard in the back of his hair, yanking his head back roughly against his shoulder. He watched as a small puddle of pre-cum had started forming underneath Oikawa at the loss of control, at the steadily increasing level of pain he probably experiencing.

_It must be true what they say then, ‘those who have the biggest mouths need to lose the most control in the bedroom.’_

“Speak the fuck up, shitty-kawa!” Iwaizumi had wanted this for so long that he had been willing to take his time and savor all that Oikawa was. But if he didn’t get a fucking move on, he was not going to be nice.

“Sp-spank me…” Oikawa choked out, his throat contacting violently around the words.

Iwaizumi’s brain short circuited at the thought of marking up the perfect, porcelain white skinned body in front of him. Quickly, he untangled Oikawa’s hands from behind his head and shoved him forward again, returning him to the same submissive position he had been in only a few minutes ago.

Iwaizumi slowly traced his palms over the round globes of Oikawa’s ass. Perfect, spotless, unmarred.

Without warning, Iwaizumi raised his right hand and swung it down on Oikawa’s right cheek, just above that infuriating tattoo. The crack of skin on skin echoing loudly in his ears.

“AH!” Oikawa moaned at the sensation, followed by small whimpers of pleasure. “More!” he pleaded.

Iwaizumi had been soothing the dull red mark with the same hand as his fingers tingled slightly, rubbing back and forth lightly. The motion repetitive probably calmed him more than it did for Oikawa. When he saw him jerk under the painful smack, he had almost come apart all over Oikawa’s back. And what a shame that would have been to end things so soon.

Iwazumi fumbled around in the now tangled sheets for the lube, uncapping the bottle once his fingers closed around it. He held the tip a few inches above Oikawa’s ass and watched as the clear liquid slid down through the cleft between his cheeks.

Dropping the bottle carelessly on the bed, Oikawa traced two fingers through the slick fluid, spreading it all over so that it covered every inch of skin in his cleft. Oikawa had started pushing backwards, seeking his fingers, almost jumping out of his skin as Iwaizumi roughly brushed against his entrance.

Without giving Oikawa a chance to tell him to wait or slow down, Iwaizumi sank two fingers deep into the man’s twitching ass. The tight, wet heat almost too much to bear as it pulsed around his fingers.

“Al-already did that earlier, I need more!” Oikawa keened as he forced his hips back harshly, fucking himself against his fingers. Iwaizumi harshly pulled his fingers from Oikawa’s heat, the boy choking out a sob at the loss.

With his hand still covered in lube, Iwaizumi reached around and took Oikawa fully in hand, stroking hard and long at the man’s sizeable erection. While Oikawa was distracted by the friction on his dick, Iwaizumi grabbed one of the condoms on the bed, ribbed, nice, and quickly slid it over his dick. He grabbed the bottle once again and poured so much lube over his length that it waterfalled over the sides and stained the sheets with puddles an even darker black then they already were.

Iwaizumi lined himself up with Oikawa’s entrance, teasing at the puckered flesh with the head of his cock. Oikawa’s movements had become erratic, trying to push forward into Iwaizumi’s hand yet at the same time trying to grind back onto his erection. Oikawa moaned in frustration, and then practically screamed in pleasure as Iwaizumi sheathed himself fully in one fluid thrust.

Both men stopped moving completely, as they tried to regain some control of their highly-aroused bodies. Iwaizumi taking deep breaths through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, Oikawa moaning and squirming under him as he tried to adjust to Iwaizumi’s girth.

After a few moments, Oikawa stopped struggling, opting instead for heavy panting and small thrusts backwards.

“You good? Can I move?” Iwaizumi groaned, his voice lower than he had ever heard it before.

“Yes, please” Oikawa ground back hard against him, dragging a gasp from deep in Iwazumi’s gut. “Please … _Hajime_ , move!”

Iwaizumi’s hips surged forward before he could even call back the motion. Oikawa never used his name, nobody did. Even the multiple lovers and few significant others he had had had never called him by his first name.

“Not fair…. _Tooru._ ” Iwazumi panted as he continued to thrust in and out of the perfect body under him. Oikawa was moaned and writhed intensely, his arms twisted as he tried to fight against the bonds. After a moment, he brought the black bands to his face, trying to grab at it with his teeth so he could remove them. _Bastard._

“Did I say you could remove those yet?” Iwaizumi growled next to Oikawa’s ear, bringing his hand down again, hard, over the same spot he had spanked earlier. Oikawa’s head snapped back on his spine, his hands falling away from his face to brace them against the bed.

“Harder, Hajime!” Iwaizumi didn’t need to be told twice as he increased the speed and force of his thrusts, the bed squeaking in protest. Each time Iwaizumi brought his hand down on Oikawa’s ass, he could feel him squeeze down on cock, holding him tighter within his blisteringly hot hole.

Iwaizumi raised his left hand this time, adding a symmetrical mark to the left side of Oikawa’s ass. He could hear Oikawa mumbling again, something desperate and throaty.

“I’m getting kind tired Tooru, should I stop?” Iwaizui teased as he stopped his thrusts. “Should I just pull out and go to bed?”

Oikawa squirmed violently underneath him and screamed ‘No!’ over and over again. Desperate for Iwazumi to keep going, to not leave him in this state. “Then understand, I will not tell you again, speak up!”

“S-spike me, _ace_!” Iwaizumi almost fell flat on his ass. He had been holding back the majority of his power, afraid he would hurt Oikawa beyond repair. There were still bright red marks, however, on both of his cheeks at this point though so he knew it was still forceful enough. But what Oikawa was asking him to do was use all of the coiled power he had in his arm. Rear back from his should and bring his hand flat down like he was spiking a volleyball over the net, blasting through the other team’s defense based on brute force alone.

“Then you better hold on, _captain_.” Even though Iwaizumi hadn’t been good enough to be drafted to the national team, he still played with a neighborhood association group. Thus, his skills were still there under his skin, not lost to the flow of time. He continued to thrust into Oikawa, if not a bit shallower so that the ridge of his head caught on his prostate with every advance and retreat.

Oikawa was close. Iwaizumi could tell by the way his body was shaking and by the increased pace in his panting. His moans because more and more explicit with each thrust. His bound hands twisting to try and grab at the sheets. Iwaizumi waited just until Oikawa was about to burst before he drew his arm back. His muscles contracting as they pulled the heavy bones of his arm behind his head.

With every ounce of power he had, he brought his arm down. Palm flat and fingers close together as he connected with Oikawa’s flesh. Oikawa’s mouth wrenched open in a silent scream. His ass contracting hard, sending pulse waves through the muscles of his hole and into Iwaizumi’s cock.

_He came_ , Iwaizum thought as his chest swelled with pride. He could still see the white outline of his hand print on Oikawa’s ass, hinting at how hard he had actually hit he man.

He grabbed Oikawa’s arms once more, Oikawa protested with soft moans as he continued to leak cum from his slowly softening dick. Iwaizumi threw Oikawa’s arms behind his head, roughly grabbed his hips and drove hard into Oikawa.

Oikawa choked back sobs, his body overly sensitive in the aftermath of his orgasm. Iwaizumi felt a twinge of guilt, but he was so close now, he could see the edge and wanted nothing more than to jump over it and fall into the oblivion below.

“Say my name!” Iwaizumi grunted against Oikawa’s back. He only needed a few more seconds, _fuck_ he was close.

“Hajime…” Oikawa moaned as he turned his head and bit down hard against Iwaizumi’s neck, over his pulse point. Iwaizumi slammed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth as he felt the hot pulses of his cum fill the condom that was buried deep in Oikawa’s heat. He held onto Oikawa so that they both wouldn’t fall forward and breathed through the remaining pleasure bursts of his orgasm.

Once his breathing had slowed enough that he could make coherent sentences again, he removed Oikawa’s arms from behind his head and tore at the bonds, slowly peeling them apart and freeing the setter’s wrists.

Once Oikawa’s wrists were no longer bound, he flopped forward and Iwaizumi had to scramble to keep hold of the condom before it spilled its contents all over the bed. _What the heck?_

“Oikawa, that could have been really bad. Warn me before you pull off like that.” Iwaizumi slowly rolled the condom down the rest of his softening length and tied the top closed, pitching it into the trash.

Glancing at the sweaty, thoroughly pleasured man beneath him, he flicked the bedside lamp on to see what damage his spike did to Oikawa’s ass. _Holy Shit!_ In the midst of a bright pink cheek, a single handprint was raised off his ass and was a deep scarlet purple. He was going to have to apologize profusely if he had actually hurt Oikawa more than he had wanted.

A moan came from the man beneath him, which drug his thoughts away from spankings and apologies. It wasn’t anything like the throaty, pleasure filled sounds that had just come out of him for the past half hour. This was a moan of disgust.

“Iwa-chaaaaaaaan …” This did not sound good. “I landed in my own cum and now I feel super gross.” Oikawa twisted so that he could rest his swollen cheek against the mattress and looked back at Iwaizumi. “Can you get me a towel please?”

Iwaizumi huffed and vaulted off the bed, grabbing a towel and running it under some warm water. As he was returning to the bedroom, he saw that Oikawa had flipped onto his back, his hips and legs spread wide as he traced a finger through the cum on his stomach, grimacing.

Iwaizumi swayed in the door way, as he felt a familiar stirring in his gut. _No, you just got off._ He knew he was going to be out of commission for at least another hour, so Oikawa needed to stop being so damn sexy.

“Here,” he tossed the towel at Oikawa, an attempt to diffuse the situation from getting out of hand and Iwaizumi opening the bottom drawer of his nightstand and searching for the different dildo’s he kept there to mess up Oikawa even more. A wet, smacking noise traveling through his brain as the towel landed right over his face.

“Rude!” Oikawa grumbled, “You aren’t gonna clean me up after you made such a thorough mess of me? Your bedside manner is terrible Iwa-chan.” Oikawa held out the towel for Iwaizumi to hold, obviously not going to clean himself.

Iwaizumi sat roughly on the bed next to Oikawa’s languid form and roughly wiped the cum from his stomach before wrenching his legs farther apart and swiping the fabric through his cleft. Oikawa’s sucked in a breath that bordered on pain at the harsh treatment. ‘Sorry’ Iwaizumi grumbled, feeling slightly guilty that he was acting like an ass after having realized his most wanted fantasy with Oikawa.

He pulled the towel back and dropped it on the floor before he buried his head into his hands, breathing heavily. So long he had waited for this, and now it seemed that that dream had now come to a close. A chapter finished in the romance novel of unrequited love that was Iwaizui’s life.

How was he going to recover from this, this most perfect evening that Iwaizumi couldn’t have dreamed up in his wildest fantasies but completely satisfied all the same? He felt a slight tap on his arm, and glanced down at Oikawa next to him.

“That’s okay, you’ll just have to make it up to me again.” Oikawa held out a finger to Iwaizumi’s mouth, tracing the bottom lip with a damp finger. Darting his tongue out to taste the moisture, salty bitterness exploded on his tongue. That was the hand that Oikawa had been dragging through the cum on his stomach and now it was in Iwaizumi’s mouth. _Fucker!_

“And-and how would I do that?” Iwaizumi choked out, his throat tight.

“Well, let’s get something to eat from the kitchen, grab a sports drink to, replenish, and then I say we take a shower. And while we are in there I can return the favor of making a mess of you like you did of me.” Oikawa sucked the same finger into his mouth, cleaning off the rest of it while staring pointedly into Iwaizumi’s eyes.

Iwazumi whined, _fucking whined_ , at the implication. He hadn’t bottomed in almost two years, so on top of the fact he was going to be super tight, it was going to be for Oikawa. Which was just going to be make the whole experience even more intense.

And still more, the main point, the one that had Iwaizumi snapping his head around to look at Oikawa like an owl, his eyes peeled wide, was the fact that this _hadn’t_ been the only time. He wanted to sleep with Iwaizumi again.

“You, you want to be with me again?” Iwaizumi could feel tears collecting at the corner of his eyes, he sniffed to try and keep the tears at bay and breathed deeply to try and calm his racing heart.

Oikawa lost his characteristic smirk, as he pushed up onto his elbows and sat forward. Taking Iwaizumi’s face in his hands, he pressed a sweet, languid kiss to his lips. He then pulled back swiping a thumb under Iwaizumi’s eye, catching the tear that had leaked from it.

“Hajime, I have been in love with you for a long time but I was afraid that you didn’t feel the same. That was why I had asked you to join in on a three some a while back. I wanted you, but I was too scared you would outright reject me. So, I kept my mouth shut.” Oikawa was never this vulnerable, never this raw and Iwaizumi was afraid that if he said anything now it would spook the setter into shutting down for good, so he stayed silent and let him continue.

“But, tonight was beyond my wildest imagination. I have never felt so satisfied, so full, so complete. And if you think I’m letting you go now, you’re dead wrong.” Oikawa moved in to kiss the corner of Iwaizumi’s other eye, followed by a languid kiss press against Iwaizumi’s lips. He drug his tongue along the seam of Iwaizumi’s lips until he opened for him, allowing Oikawa to explore gently.

Oikawa started to lean back and drug Iwaizumi with him until he was laying completely on top of the brunette. Tilting his chin up once again to gaze into Iwaizumi’s eyes, two emeralds swimming in pools of white.

“I love you, Iwaizumi Hajime.” Oikawa said it with such ease, his voice not wavering in the slightest. Iwaizumi buried his face between Oikawa’s pecs and choked back sobs. His throat too thick with emotion to say anything.

“Now Hajime, I said ‘I love you’. Usually you are supposed to say it back.” Oikawa toyed with a lock of hair behind, rolling it between his fingers and bending it down to tickle at the canal leading into Iwaizumi’s ear. He fidgeted at the tickling sensation before pushing his head up and away from Oikawa’s ministrations.

“Fine, I love you too assy-kawa” Iwaizumi, trailed one hand down Oikawa’s side, fingers rippling over the bands of muscles over his ribs and waist, until they came to rest gripping and rubbing softly at Oikawa’s tender ass.

Oikawa chuckled as Iwaizumi pressed light kisses to his pecs, neck, and mouth. “Rude.”

He was wrong. The sex hadn’t been what had made this night perfect. It was this, right here. This confession from his best friend that seemed to be exactly what he wanted to say all along as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a funny side note, the part where Iwaizumi had an idea, blah blah blah; the only thought running through my head at that time was that line from "how the grinch stole christmas" and the narrator said "and then he got an idea. an awful idea. the grinsh got a wonderful, awful idea" and I imagined Iwa-chan making that huge grin face and I almost couldn't finish the scene I kept laughing so hard. :)


	14. Whataya Want from Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter everyone! This chapter continues the main story and there may e a little surprise that has been long anticipated at the very end of the chapter! I can't thank you all enough for reading and commenting, it means a lot to me! It makes my day when I see how many people have taken time out of their day to read the story. And the comments I get give me such a warm feeling that I am just on cloud nine for the rest of the day. So thank you so much to all of you lovelies!
> 
> song for reference: Whataya Want from Me -Adam Lambert

Kenma woke with a start, snuffling hard through his nose, as he felt his head fall forward into space. Reminding him of the feeling of balancing a chair on its back two legs and then almost falling over, hanging in the limbo of space, until slamming his feet back down to steady the chair once again.

Looking into the space around him with blurry eyes, he could tell he was in a car, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why. He rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hands hard, trying to clear the muddy haze he was seeing. He could hear low voices in the background, voices which sounded far away through the mire.

Opening his eyes again, stretching his eyelids so wide he could feel the muscles tugging at the back of his skull, the last of the swirling mist cleared and his location became clear. A taxi. He was in a taxi, and right outside the window was his dorm building. He could tell by the metallic, tall exterior and the large, dark, block letters that spelled out WASEDA vertically along the upper right hand corner of the building.

“Kenma. We’re home, let’s go.” Kenma’s insides turned to liquid as the deep voice lilted through his brain. Turning away from the window, which was apparently where his head had been before it fell forward if the vertical streak of drool on the window was any sort of indicator, he saw Kuroo standing outside the taxi, door open and hand outstretched towards him.

“Kuuuuuurrrooooo…” The syllables dragged across Kenma’s tongue as he slid to lay sideways across the back seat of the taxi. His arms stretched over his head as he looked up at his cunning captain. A sloppy smile splitting his naturally stoic face in half as light laughter bubbled out of his chest. “Carry me!”

For a moment, all Kuroo did was stare at Kenma sprawled out across the back seat of the bright yellow taxi. _What?_ Kenma couldn’t figure out why Kuroo was just staring at him. Had he said something odd? Some small recess of his mind burped up a ‘you don’t usually act like this’, but Kenma just didn’t want to walk. And if it was Kuroo who was carrying him, well then that was just an erotically happy coincidence, giving him a chance to get up close and personal with the muscular, thick, god-like body.

After another moment or two, he felt a warm breeze flutter across his face and heard Kuroo blow out exasperatedly, before grabbing Kenma’s wrists. Kuroo’s long, thick fingers circled his tiny wrists, sending a shiver along the entire length of Kenma’s spine.

Kenma felt his arms being pulling towards the door, his shoulder joints beginning to protest as his body slowly moved along the weathered, black leather seat behind his arms. The solid warm bands an anchor in the swirling sea of lowered inhibitions that were flooding his brain.

His tongue darted out to swipe over his lower lip, detecting the tangy, smokiness of whiskey clinging to the corners of his mouth. _Ah, that explains it._ The warm, floating sensation. The feeling of not caring if he was acting out of character. The heightened state of arousal, which was getting more and more uncomfortable with each passing moment. Which, he now remembered, had started when his aching erection had been forced to endure over a mile of being pressed and rubbed at against Kuroo’s back.

He was drunk.

Kenma’s body slipped free from the car and his feet hit the concrete, his knees buckling under him, forcing Kuroo to catch him before he fell flat on his face.

“Geez Kenma, how much did you have to drink?” Kuroo scolded. He grabbed one of Kenma’s arms and wrapped it around his hips, grabbing onto Kenma’s opposite shoulder, trying to support the rest of the boy’s light frame.

“Not mush.” Kenma slurred slightly, obviously lying about how much he had consumed, followed by a ‘ _pbbbttfff_ ’ as he buried his face in Kuroo’s side. He was pretty sure he had had enough alcohol that he was going to have a monstrous hangover in the morning. But never having been drunk to this extent before, he wasn’t sure exactly what was going to happen.

Before he knew it, they were inside the building and in front of their door. Kuroo rummaged through his pockets, searching for the keys while also trying to keep Kenma standing. He glanced behind Kuroo at his back-left pocket, the one that was obstructed by his small body effectively making it impossible for Kuroo to reach properly, noticing sharp outlines against the fabric.

Without thinking, Kenma draped his fingers across Kuroo’s belt, the black leather cool against his fingers. Kuroo stilled beside him as he slowly drug his palm down, fingers trailing along the thick stitched seam that fit perfectly down the middle between his cheeks, nails scraping slightly over the dark fibers of his black skinny jeans. Flipping his wrist quickly so his fingers and palm had switched positions, he toyed with the outer lip of the wallet sized pocket on Kuroo’s ass.

He slipped one finger inside Kuroo’s pocket and closed his eyes at the sensation. The fabric was warm and slightly damp from being pressed to Kuroo’s body for hours. Not having a lot of space inside the pocket due to Kuroo favoring tighter fitting pants when he went out, Kenma had to gently force his finger deeper into the tiny cavern.

Allowing the rest of his fingers to join the first, his wiggled them further into the fabric, molding to the tight, firm muscles of Kuroo’s ass. He curled his fingers forward and probed at the perfect globes. Kuroo sucked in a breath above him, which he felt, more than heard, through Kuroo’s ass pressing into his hand and the tight pocket his hand had invaded pressed around his hand more tightly.

“Kenma, what are you doing?” Kenma glanced up, taking in one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. Kuroo’s cheeks had a slight pink tinge to them. His mouth was partially open, revealing the sharp, white edge of his teeth, his breaths rasped in and out between curvy, apricot shaded lips. His eyes had peeled wide and were searching Kenma’s face, his eyes darting rapidly back and forth. But for what, Kenma didn’t know. It was almost as if … Kuroo was… aroused. _Was he drunk too?_

Twitching his fingers to see if his assumption was correct, Kenma gently grasped Kuroo’s keys, the pads of his fingers caressing the smooth edge of his Mikasa Volleyball keychain, and yanked them from their tight, denim confines. Sticking his index finger up in front of Kuroo’s face, and with a level of confidence he never would have been able to summon had he not been drunk, swirled the keys around the digit just under Kuroo’s chin.

“Just thought I’d give you a hand. You seemed to be struggling.” Kenma practically purred, his eyes lids dropping low over his golden irises, leaning his face marginally closer into the taller man. He was so close now, Kuroo’s musk was saturating his nose, burrowing into his brain.

He let the keys settle against the back of his hand, the cool metal sapping some of the warmth from his heated hand and finger. Kuroo’s eyes flared wider, if that was possible, and quickly snatched the keys from him. Which, if Kuroo hadn’t still been holding him, would have thrown him off balance and possibly sent him careening into the wall.

Without another word, Kuroo slammed the key home, popping the lock and roughly pushing the door open into the abyss of their dark entry way. He pulled on Kenma’s shoulder, dragging him through the doorway and kicking it closed.

The change in momentum caused Kenma to get thrown off balance, hands shooting up to lock around Kuroo’s shoulders and neck. Which snowballed out of control with Kuroo losing his balance and pitching forward towards the floor.

Kuroo wrapped his arms around Kenma and twerked his body around like a cat falling from a third story landing, his own back landing on the floor and Kenma’s plopping down on top of him.

Kenma’s nose was pressed into the space between Kuroo’s pecs. The crisp, purple fabric of his button down pressed stiffly against his cheeks. Inhaling deeply, Kenma’s senses were flooded with the combined ambrosia that was Kuroo’s cologne and his sweat, combining the two so that it produced a whole new fragrance that was uniquely Kuroo.

Kenma’s fingers tightened around the fabric under his hands, trying to get closer to the man beneath him. Kenma shifted his head to rub his cheek against Kuroo’s chest and felt a heavy weight shift on the back of his head. He realized that, not only had Kuroo protected him from the fall, he had landed in a way that Kuroo had wrapped an arm around his hip and another hand rested against the back of his head.

Kenma was afraid to look up at Kuroo. Afraid he was going to wake up any second and realize this had all been a dream. But if it was a dream, maybe he could take some control of it before it ended with him being unsatisfied, just like all the others.

Uncurling one hand from the cotton fabric, Kenma slid his fingertips up towards Kuroo’s head. Feeling the thick pads of his pecs and the hard ridge of his collarbones. He fingered the lengthy tendons and muscles in his neck, the stubble that had started to grow out in the almost 24 hours since he had last shaved. Kenma’s hand wrapped around the side of Kuroo’s face, his thumb resting in front of his ear, his other hand tangling lightly in the dark hairs at the base of Kuroo’s head.

Lifting his head off of its heavenly firm pillow, Kenma shifted forward so that his face was directly above Kuroo’s. The motion sensor light had kicked on in the entry way during the scuffle and Kenma’s head was casting a shadow over Kuroo’s face. Yet it did nothing to hide the surprise and look of pure shock on Kuroo’s face.

_If this is a dream, then I am in control. If this is a dream, then I am in control. If this is a dream…_

Painfully, slowly, Kenma inched his face closer to Kuroo’s. His eyes no longer holding his ex-captain’s and instead zeroing in on his lips. They weren’t full per say, but they weren’t pencil thin either. Possessing just enough cushion that, if Kenma were to follow through with this plan, he knew those lips would be able to take him to heaven.

_In more ways than one_.

Six inches. Kenma’s mouth dropped open, consciously reminding himself to breathe.

Three inches. He was closer now than in any dream he had ever had.

One inch. He just had to close that last, seemingly insurmountable distance and he would be kissing the man of his dreams. One mere inch, and everything he had dreamed of, would finally be coming true. Even if this was a dream.

“Kenma, you’re drunk.” He felt firm pressure against his shoulders as he was pushed back from Kuroo. His head swimming slightly at the abrupt change in vantage point. Kenma felt his butt hit the floor, his knees splaying out to the sides in a “W” shaped seated position, as Kuroo shimmied out from under him and headed towards the kitchen.

All he could do was stare at the ground. Even though he had kept telling himself that this was a dream, he had known it wasn’t. He had hoped too much. There was no way that Kuroo would want him, in any way, if he didn’t even let him kiss him.

He was on the verge of tears again. Could feel his eyes starting to swim in their sockets as the flood threatened to break past the dam holding them back. _Why? Why is it not okay with me but anyone else is sufficient?_

Kenma could feel the air rush in and out of his nose as he attempted to hold back his tears, snuffling them back into his throat as they drained into his nose. It didn’t make sense. Kuroo had been sleeping with women since high school. Many, many women, and Kenma had never batted an eye.

But when had he started sleeping with men? Had that started in high school too? Had he slept with the players on their team? With Kai or Yaku? Kenma’s stomach roiled. The alcohol churning in his stomach coupled with the lack of actual sustenance threatened to spill over.

Kenma covered his mouth with both hands, breathing even deeper through his nose as it poked out between his fingers. Trying to keep his stomach from making its presence known all over their entry way.

“ _SHIT_ , Kenma hang on!” Kuroo sprinted towards him, skidding lightly in his socked feet. He hoisted Kenma up by his armpits and carried him princess style to the bathroom as fast as he could. Only making it to the porcelain toilet by the skin of their teeth as his stomach upturned its contents.

Kenma heaved into the toilet, the contents completely clear indicating he was puking up pure alcohol. The combination of bile and alcohol burned his throat and the inside of his nose. His eyes leaking the tears he had tried so hard to keep in check.

After a couple of dry heaves, Kenma’s stomach settled enough that he could sit back with a certain degree of certainty that he wouldn’t fall into another fit of puking. His hands and body started to shake from the aftershock of the violent heaving. He tilted his head and rested his cheek against the cool white plastic of the seat and cracked his eyes open. He fully expected to see the ends of his hair hanging in front of his face, the tips drenched with his vomit.

However, there were no flashes of blonde in his vision. He also noticed that there was a gentle, warm, circular motion playing across his back and shoulders. Kuroo was squatting next to him, one hand rubbing his back soothingly, the other gripping the ends of his hair, keeping them safe from his sick that had splattered the inside of the bowl.

“Feeling better?” Kuroo’s voice was low and laced with concern. Kenma could only stare at him, watching as Kuroo stood up and retrieved a washcloth, ran it under some warm water in the sink while snagging the glass next to the faucet, filling it as well and plopping back down next to him. Bringing the towel up to Kenma’s mouth, Kuroo tipped his head back with the tips of his fingers under Kenma’s chin. The second the fabric made contact with his mouth, his eyes slammed shut, tendrils of arousal licked down his spine and out through his limbs.

Kuroo’s hand was just on the other side of that cloth. His fingers gently wiping the sick from around his mouth. Taking the mess that he was, and slowly putting the pieces back together, trying to make him whole again in the gentlest way he could.

It was all so unfair.

One last swipe over his bottom lip, which Kenma had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from moaning out loud, and the rough warmth was gone. Cracking his eyes open, he saw Kuroo toss the cloth into the sink without looking and stretched out his hand, holding the glass out to him. He grabbed the glass with shaking hands and took tentative drags at the liquid, swishing the water between his cheeks to rid all the recesses of his mouth of the foul-tasting bile and alcohol mixture.

Giving the glass back to Kuroo after he had drunk about half of it, Kuroo set the glass down next to the toilet, reaching his hand back towards his face once more. Slowly, he pushed a lock of blonde strands that had fallen over Kenma’s sweaty face out of his eyes, tucking it gently behind his ear and then trailing his finger to swipe at the damp skin under Kenma’s eye. Taking with it the salty fluid that had streaked down his cheek. Kenma choked back a sob and hung his head.

“Why did you have to curse me, Kuro.” Kenma shoved the heel of his hand into his eye while supporting the rest of his body against the bathroom floor, the nickname he had given his best friend almost feeling out of place against his tongue in such a situation.

“What are you talking about?” Kuroo actually had the audacity to sound confused.

“Why is it that you would sleep with anyone, _anyone_ , without a second thought as to how it would affect me?” Just like the alcohol that was now swirling down the drain, the words were just vomiting themselves out of his mouth. “For years, I sat by quietly. I watched you sleep with so many girls, and I was fine with that because it was girls.”

“Kenma, what are you …” Kenma could feel Kuroo leaning closer to him. His looming presence just adding fuel to the fire.

“I _HEARD_ you earlier Kuro, with Nowaki!” A sob broke free from Kenma as he said the offending name, tasting bile all over again on his tongue. “I thought I would be satisfied just being close to you, I mean you liked girls, or so I thought so it was okay. But, Nowaki wasn’t a girl, was he?” Sitting back on his heels, rubbing the back of his arm against his eyes to remove the traces of his own weakness. “What was wrong with me? I was always there. If you had liked guys, why wasn’t I good enough? I would have slept with you in a heartbeat… because I love you.”

Kenma heard a sharp intake of breath in front of him, and opening his eyes to see what the noise was, he realized it had been Kuroo. Kuroo wasn’t even breathing in more than shallow puffs, his face having gone whiter than a sheet, his arms, shoulders, and chest shaking slightly.

_Would it really be that appalling to be with me? To be loved by me?_

Glancing down at his hands, Kenma curled them into tight fists. His knuckles going white from the force of his emotions. Sadness at having been passed over so many times. Depression knowing there was almost nothing he could do to change Kuroo’s mind. Anger at himself for having been so stupid all these years. But finally, resignation.

He was already drunk, he could blame it on that in the morning. Even if Kuroo denied him, pushed him off of him in the end, he was going to at least try.

“You know what, I don’t even care anymore.” Lunging forward, he moved faster than he had ever moved in his life, even during the years he played volleyball. Kenma threw himself into Kuroo’s arms, tackling him to the white, tiled bathroom floor.

And sealed his lips to Kuroo’s, as fireworks exploded behind his eyes and his skin burned as if on fire.


	15. Close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference Song: Close by Nick Jonas

_Holy …. Mother … Of … God!_

This had to be a dream. Kenma would never be kissing him in real life, so the only explanation was that after Kenma had gotten sick, Kuroo had tucked him into bed and fallen asleep right afterwards in his own bed. Thus, resulting in this ‘better-than-any-wet-dream’ scenario.

But there was the small weight pressing down on top of him, keeping his body from floating away. The warm cushion of Kenma’s lips against his own, slightly off center and overly wet with spit that tasted like whiskey. The small hands that were curled into his shirt and tugging at his hair, sending pinpricks of pleasure-pain along his scalp.

The combination of sensations lent itself to the fact that this was in fact, not, a dream. Which was made painfully clear as Kenma started to grind his hips against his. The hard, thin length on top of his hips slid deliciously over his own quickly thickening erection. Kuroo’s eyelids fluttered against his cheeks, but he was afraid to completely close them. Afraid that if he opened them after surrendering to the pleasure, he would be lying in bed, alone. Yet again. With nothing more than his hand on his own cock and images of Kenma flooding his brain.

But…Kenma had said he loved him. _Kenma_ LOVED _him_!

That couldn’t be a coincidence. It was said that people became more truthful after you get a few drinks in them. Something about the simple addition of an -OH group off of a carbon atom in an ethyl alcohol molecule depressing the interaction of neurotransmitters across the synapses in the brain, leading to incoordination and memory loss at high enough levels, worked to loosen the lock on the Pandora’s Box most people kept their true feelings and darkest secrets hidden away in.

_What the actual fuck!?_

Kenma, _his_ Kenma, was kissing him. His lips pressing against hungrily against his own. Copious amounts of saliva trailing after his kisses as he slanted awkwardly against Kuroo’s mouth, heavy with the incoordination and nonpractice of someone who hasn’t kissed or been kissed before. Kenma’s tongue swiped out along his bottom lip and probed heavily at the seam of his mouth, demanding entrance into the hot depths.

Kenma was so close, Kuroo’s eyes couldn’t focus on the delicate features of his face, but he could see that the boy’s eyes were shut. He could imagine that his long, blonde eyelashes were kissing the tops of his cheeks. Cheeks that normally were a shade of white that only otakus could achieve when all they did was play video games all day and never went outside unless forced. However, now they held the faintest tinge of Axolotl pink which darkened to a roseate hue with each passing, arousal laden second.

And here he was. Lying on the floor like a fish. A dead fish.

His arms were heavy and leaden on the floor, when they could have been circled around Kenma’s hips. Holding him in place or slowly moving Kenma’s hips over his own. He could have been kissing the boy back. Sliding his own tongue along the thin line between Kenma’s lips until he opened for him. Allowing him to explore every inch of his small, perfect mouth. Their tongues engaging in a wet, sliding dance as their taste buds rubbed against and tasted each other.

It could have gone further. Kuroo could have gained the upper hand and flipped Kenma over right there in the bathroom. He could have reared back, hands clawing at each scrap of clothing, impatient to uncover all that creamy skin that he knew lay beneath the cotton and denim prison. But only removing enough clothing that allowed them to get from point A to point B the quickest. It would be rough. And fast. And perfect.

He also could have leaned forward and picked Kenma up in his arms, carrying him to his own bedroom. He could have laid him out on top of his crimson red covers and slowly stripped both of them of every piece of clothing until they were both naked, moaning, and straining. A tangle of limbs, and tongues, and hands as they searched out and mapped the entirety that was each other. It would be slow. And tender. And perfect.

And as much as Kuroo wanted this, as perfect as this moment seemed and could have been, he couldn’t do this. Kenma was drunk, which had to be the only reason he was acting like this. He never would have willingly sought Kuroo out if he hadn’t been inebriated.

“Kkkmaa” Kuroo mumbled against the insistent set of hot lips. A small trail of saliva slipped down through the corner of his mouth and along his chin as he struggled to regain control of the situation.

Kuroo willed his arms to lift from the floor, attempting to place them against Kenma’s shoulders. Which was proving a more difficult task than it should have been. With Kenma being so close, Kuroo couldn’t get his arms under his shoulders to properly gain traction in the small space between their bodies and the slick wooden floor. _Shit!_

Kenma had started grinding his hips against Kuroo’s. Moaning against his mouth, the blonde was able to rub himself against Kuroo’s cock, which had decided that it wanted to be as much a part of the action as it could be as it throbbed in the confined space between their bodies.

As Kenma continued to try licking into Kuroo’s mouth, his hands were everywhere. One moment they were threading through his hair, pushing the perpetual flop of bangs over his right eye out of his face, the next they were fisting in his shirt, crushing the fabric between his small fingers.

Kuroo’s eyes peeled wide as he felt Kenma fumbling at the center of his chest, realizing that he was trying to undo the buttons on his shirt. Wrenching his head to the side, he broke the contact between their mouths with a loud, wet pop. Kuroo could feel Kenma’s breath on the side of his face, heavy warm pants that skated across his skin leaving chills in the wake the warm breeze.

“Kenma, stop!” Kuroo pleaded, trying to get through to Kenma. To make him stop on his own so that he had an excuse to reel himself in before they got to the point of no return.

“NO, I want you!” Kenma pushed Kuroo’s hands away from his chest, trying to pin them to the floor above Kuroo’s head. “You would sleep with anyone, _anyone_ who apparently wasn’t me. _WHY?!_ Why wasn’t I ever good enough?” Kenma shot up into a seated position, his frustration clearly visible on his face at the combination of what was apparently a life time of rejection, alcohol, and the fact that he still had yet to get more than two of Kuroo’s buttons undone.

“Kenma…” Kuroo could only stare up at his best friend. The shy boy he had met as a child, who grew into an introverted gamer as an adult, was nowhere to be found now. The boy above him now, was a man. A sexually frustrated man, who knew what and _who_ he wanted.

“Just…” Kenma gave up and opted for pounding his small, clenched fists against Kuroo’s pecs and sternum. None too lightly, either. “God, just … _fuck me_!” Kenma roared as tears spilled down his cheeks. 

As Kenma’s confession echoed around the small dorm room and died out, Kuroo’s ears rang and his brain rattled in his skull. If Kenma had whispered his confession instead, he would still have been thrown for a loop as he was knocked on his ass, leaving him sprawled out on the floor. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted Kenma, more than anything. But Kenma wasn’t in his right state of mind.

He knew better than to do this. He was better than this. Kenma deserved better than this. But...

“Don’t hate me in the morning.” Kuroo growled deep in his throat as he sat up and, taking Kenma in his arms, sprinted to his bedroom. Kenma bobbing with his movements, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

Kuroo almost stumbled in the door way as Kenma’s mouth sealed to the side of his neck. Biting and sucking hard over his jugular, which was going to leave a bright purple hickey when Kenma pulled off his neck, he was absolutely certain.

Kuroo strode to the side of his bed as his hand carded through Kenma’s blonde streaks, pulling them harshly away from his neck. His cock jumped violently at the low moan that bubbled out of Kenma’s throat at the rough treatment and almost had Kuroo’s knees buckling.

Kuroo panted hard, his breath mixing with Kenma’s in the shared space between the two. He stared at Kenma for only a moment more before he unceremoniously released the boy’s body onto his bed. The boy’s delicate body bounced lightly on the mattress, releasing a small yelp of surprise in the process.

“K-kuro…” Kenma was panting heavily. His chest heaving up and down with the force of his breaths. His arms tangled above his head, having pushed Kuroo’s pillows askew when his body had hit the sheets.

Kuroo stared down at his best friend, like a wolf about to devour the delicious, fluffy white ovine at his feet. And he was going to _devour_ Kenma. Hungrily. Slowly. Completely.

He grabbed the sides of his jelly colored shirt, two of the buttons already undone thanks to Kenma’s fumbling, and ripped the two halves apart. The rest of the buttons tore from his shirt and flew off his chest to scatter around the room, some landing on the bed while others opted for the plastic-y _tink_ of hitting the hardwood floor or the walls, before stripping the shirt off completely and letting it drop to the floor.

Kenma’s eyes rolled back in his head at the sight, and his back arched off the bed. Moaning loudly, his outline of his erection becoming more obvious as it twitched under his jeans. Kuroo clambered onto the bed, pushing Kenma’s legs apart and settling between them before leaning down and capturing Kenma’s mouth with his own.

The kiss was so much hotter than before, now that Kuroo was taking an active role as a willing participant. Kuroo’s hands groped at the hem of Kenma’s grey tank top, shoving it up roughly until it bunched under the boy’s chin. Kuroo sat back on his heels, taking Kenma up with him as he attempted to pull off Kenma’s jacket and top.

However, the jacket got caught on Kenma’s elbows, making it difficult to remove the fabric smoothly. And while the neck of his tank top was relatively wide, it seemed to get caught around Kenma’s head. Maybe both of them working to remove his clothes at the same time was counterintuitive.

Giving one final tug at the grey fabric, Kenma was relieved of any clothing from the waist up and flopped back on the bed. Kuroo let the grey fabric slip from his fingers slowly as he took a moment to admire his best friend. Milky white skin, rounded gently in all the right placed, giving him a softer look than he had in high school.

Kuroo slowly reached out a hand towards Kenma, resting it against his stomach and sliding it up. As Kuroo’s finger slid over one of Kenma’s nipples, and as he slowly circled his finger around the puckered nub, Kuroo reveled in the small twitches and low moans elicited from Kenma.

Kuroo’s mouth went dry and filled with saliva at the same time. His tongue yearned to taste Kenma’s flesh. So, he gripped Kenma’s nipple between his thumb and index finger and squeezed lightly, which caused Kenma’s eyes to roll back in his head as he closed his eyes and popped his chest off the mattress. _Perfect._

Moving fast, Kuroo leaned in to replace his fingers with his lips. Closing his mouth around the blonde’s erect nipple, which had the opposite effect than just a moment ago. Kuroo watched under hooded eyelids as Kenma’s eyes blew wide and searched out his own. Once their eyes were locked together, Kuroo sucked lightly, taking the sensitive flesh farther into his mouth, running his tongue in circles around the tip.

“Ah, Kuro!” Kenma groaned as his head kicked back into the comforter, his chest arching further into Kuroo’s mouth. He couldn’t get enough of Kenma’s flavor. The salty tang of his sweat from the club and the juicy aroma of his green apple 2-in-1 shampoo and body wash clashing in his mouth and nose.

Kuroo raised his head, and released Kenma’s plump nipple with a wet pop, before trailing his tongue in the small valley between his small pecs. Almost reaching the neglected nipple before Kenma started fidgeting violently, causing Kuroo to stop mid slide.

“What’s wrong? Want to stop?” Kuroo questioned.

“N-no, but do you… do you have… s-stuff?” If it was possible, Kenma went an even darker shade of red, the embarrassment of what he asked seeping into his very pores. Kuroo could have smacked himself.

“Yeah hang on.” Kuroo lunged to the side of the bed, wrenching open the second drawer on his night stand. Since he hadn’t turned the lights on in his hurry to get Kenma under him, he fumbled in the dark, his fingers seeking out the familiar wavy tube of silicone based Astroglide and the thick foil squares of his favorite Trojan condoms.

After a few frustrating moments and his exploration yielding no results, Kuroo got up from the bed and flipped his phone’s flashlight on. The light on the wall seeming too far away still. As he pushed his sleeves, eggs, and different sized cock rings out of the way, he realized that neither of the objects he needed more than air itself at this very moment were not where they should have been. One more pass through the drawer, his metal handcuffs clanging against the side of the drawer, forced him to realize where he had last left what he needed.

He had used them earlier today with Nowaki in…

“Bathroom!” Kuroo’s feet moved before his brain could comprehend what he was doing. Stopping just inside the door frame of his room, he torqued his body back to the bed, finding Kenma sitting up on the sheets. His arms were propped behind him, popping his chest forward, and his legs splayed wide, putting his hips on full display.

Kuroo almost fell to his knees again for the second time in less than an hour because of Kenma. His fingers gripped the door frame so hard, he was sure his blunt nails were going to leave divots in the wood.

“My-my stuff is in the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” Kuroo panted.

Kenma readjusted himself on the bed so he was being supported with only one arm behind himself, as the other hand ran down the front of his exposed chest. Kuroo watched rabidly as Kenma’s hand continued to travel south until it was cupping himself through his jeans, rubbing at the straining erection behind the denim.

“Hurry… Tetsuro!” _Oh, God!_ Kuroo’s eyes slammed shut as he attempted to keep the orgasm, that threatened to spill out, from shooting out of his painfully hard cock. No one had ever called him by his first name, not even the few long-term partners he had had in the past. For one, they were never together long enough to warrant the more intimate colloquialism of using first names. And two, he had never seen it as necessary, thus never asking for others to use his first name. But the way Kenma said it… it was like water in a desert. Flooding his body with warmth and light, slaking his thirsty body.

His shoulders lunged forward as he attempted to get back on top of Kenma. But, he was forgetting something, wasn’t he? _Oh, right._

“I-” Kuroo swallowed hard, “I will, kitten. Just hang on.” Willing his fingers to release the doorframe before he ripped it down, he had to force his eyes away from the erotic scene on his bed. Kenma had laid back down and had undone his pants, his hand slid under the fabric as he palmed himself. His back arching off the bed and his throaty moans filling the space.

_Condoms, lube, condoms, lube._

If he didn’t at least take the time to retrieve those items now, he might end up hurting Kenma. And that absolutely could not happen. It was going to be uncomfortable for Kenma, even if he wasn’t a virgin.

_Was Kenma even a virgin?_ He didn’t know anymore. He was so used to Kenma acting one way and tonight had completely blown that image to pieces. He had just always assumed Kenma had never done anything with anyone, but who knows if that was actually true now. While his kissing seemed to be unpracticed, maybe it was the alcohol that had made it so, not necessarily inexperience. Kuroo slammed into the wall of the bathroom as he slid across the tiles on the floor in his socks, forgetting he needed to slow down once you got to your intended destination. Especially if the floor was slippery.

Kuroo shook his head hard, that didn’t matter right now. He just needed to find his lube and condoms and get inside Kenma as fast as humanly possible.

_There!_ On the inside ledge of the tub, in between Kenma’s 2-in-1 Green Apple Shampoo and Body Wash and his own Old Spice Swagger Shampoo, sat his small clear and purple bottle of silicone lubricant. He snagged it and shoved it in the back pocket of his jeans before looking around like a madman for his condoms. He pulled open every single drawer that was in the small room, yielding nothing.

Kuroo pulled at the roots of his hair, almost ready to just say ‘fuck it’ when he spotted a lineup of three gold, shiny squares behind the sink. _How did they get there?_

Bending down, he grasped at the packets, almost crushing them in his grip as he righted himself in front of the mirror. Looking down at the items in his hand and feeling the small bulge in his back pocket, Kuroo smiled to himself. _This is really happening!_ Kuroo could feel the edge of hysterics creep in as his fingers gripped the condoms, crinkling the wrappers. He could feel his eyes peel wide as he imagined what would happen once he entered that room again.

Kenma would be lying on his back on his bed, maybe with his pants already off. Legs splayed wide in invitation, like a feast laid out just for him. Maybe he would be playing with himself. Stroking his blushing cock, focusing on the head, while his fingers were plunged deep in his own ass, pumping to provide just the right amount of friction. His head would be kicked back into the pillows, golden hair fanned out like a halo on an angel, and his body covered in sweat. His voice would be hoarse and pitiful as he tried desperately to reach his climax.

Kuroo’s hands shot out to steady himself against the edge of the sink. Panting hard, he stared into the porcelain bowl in front of him, but didn’t really see it as images of Kenma and him flashed behind his eyes. His dick twitched hard in his jeans as each new image filtered through. He could probably come just from this. Pulling his eyes up from the sink, he went to take a look at his reflection, making sure his hair wasn’t all over …

_Who? Who is that?_

Kuroo didn’t recognize the face staring back at him. His black hair wilder than it usually was. His eyes were wide, pupils blown so far that his hazel iris’ couldn’t be seen, just the dark pits of his pupils stared back at him. His mouth was hanging open, his breath slightly fogging up the glass on the mirror with the force of them. The tips of his teeth flashing in the light coming off the fluorescent bulb above his head. His face was strawberry red and beads of sweat were running down the sides of his head, a few trailing to drip off the ends of his hair. The shiner he had gotten earlier was starting to set in deep with tinges of purple and blue, making it look like he had just come off a hard fight.

He looked like a demon. A demon about to ruin an innocent soul forever.

The condoms fell from Kuroo’s hand, landing softly against the fuzzy, aqua, microfiber shag throw rug on the floor. What was he doing? He knew better than this. He was better than this. He was repeating the logic he had tried to reason with earlier to bring him back to himself. To clear the hazy fog of arousal that was clouding his judgement.

_For Christ’s sake!_ There was at least one demonstration or email a week about consent and sex on campus. The biggest no-no being you don’t have sex with someone who is so sloshed that they either can’t answer you or are acting in a way that is completely different from their usual self. Even if the other person seems to be begging for it, consent is a must in all situations. And he had made sure to always follow that rule. If his partner or girlfriend had been drinking, he always made sure they knew where he stood if they decided to replace all their body fluid with alcohol.

_Because consent is sexy._

All his hard work to create an upstanding image of himself and a strong moral fiber, all his self-control, he almost just threw it all out the window. Like a pesky fly that was tapping against the window, ramming its head against the glass thinking that each time would be the one where it would be free from its prison. And this time they fly had almost found out that the window had been cracked a mere inch from the bottom of the window frame and if it had just gotten a smidge lower it would have been able to fly to freedom.

Kuroo closed his eyes, and attempted to breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. Calm down, he whispered to himself. If what Kenma had said was true, he could just ask him about it in the morning. Ask when Kenma wasn’t completely FUBARed and could think through what he really wanted in the light of day.

_Inhale…2…3…4… Exhale 2…3…4…_

A second. A minute. An hour. Kuroo didn’t know exactly how long he was in the bathroom, breathing consciously. Willing his brain and body to get on the same page. Slowly, the cloud dissipated and his cock softened, none to happily though. After he somehow got Kenma out of his room, he was going to be masturbating like his life depended on it, to those images that just stampeded through his brain like a herd of elephants. Because that was all he could do in this situation.

Cracking one eye open, he tentatively took in his reflection. Thankfully, the one that greeted him this time looked more like himself. His face was no longer flushed. His eyes their typical warm, honey and his body was no longer thrumming with energy. He was still on edge, but it was much more tolerable now.

Prying his hands away from the edge of the sink, Kuroo released a long, heavy sigh and ran a hand through his hair. _What do I say?_ How was he going to smooth this over? He had been all over Kenma just a little bit ago and now he had to go back into his room and turn down the person who he had wanted to be with ever since he could remember, that he couldn’t sleep with him. Not yet at least.

Kuroo bent down and picked up the condoms because, _hello_ , he couldn’t just leave them in the middle of the bathroom floor. As he shoved them into the pocket with his lube, he turned on his heel and made a beeline for his room. The quicker he got this over with the better. _Rip it off like a band aide_. It was going to probably be the hardest thing he will ever have to do but this just wasn’t the right time, the right situation.

Maybe Kenma would be understanding, even through the haze. He always did have a level, logical head. Maybe he would laugh it off and just say it was a mistake or something he wanted to try and now that it was real, he didn’t want it anymore.

But maybe he would hate Kuroo, for riling him up and then leaving him alone. Kuroo faltered just before the door jamb of his room. Throwing his hand against the wall, Kuroo clutched at his chest. He didn’t think he could handle it if Kenma hated him all because he wouldn’t sleep with him. He hoped that the right words would come to him if that scenario did indeed rear its ugly head.

Taking shaking steps on legs that felt like they were made of Jell-O, Kuroo slipped into the room, staring at the wood grain on the floor. Afraid to look towards the bed in case Kenma was in any of the positions he had imagined. Which would cause his self-control to waver yet again.

“Kenma, I need to say something.” Maybe he could just get it all out in one breath. That way he wouldn’t be tempted to cross the room and take Kenma in his arms. “Please don’t be upset. I want to be with you, _I DO!_ But, this isn’t right Kenma. You’re drunk, so you aren’t completely in your right mind. And I’m afraid that if we do this now, that you will regret it in the morning. And I want you to be with me because you want to be, not because the alcohol told you to.” Kuroo swallowed hard. _Just get the last part out._

“I-I love you Kenma. I have for a very long time. But I thought you didn’t see me like that so I held back. So, I really, really hope you remember these feelings in the morning because if you weren’t drunk and you were acting like this, I would have no reservations about sleeping with you. It would be a dream come true for me, to be connected with you so intimately. _God,_ I’ve imagined what it would be like to be inside you more times than I can count.”

Shit, he needed to shut up quick before he got completely hard again and ruined all the work he had just done to put the lid on his libido and this night. _Just a little but longer._ Just get Kenma out of his room, and then he would be free.

A small snore met Kuroo’s ears before he could continue with his speech. Whipping his head up towards the bed, Kuroo eyes were met with an incredulous site. Kenma’s pants were around his knees. An attempt to remove them completely, forgotten apparently as his hand was still wrapped around his now flaccid cock. And Kenma … Kenma was asleep.

Inching closer to the bed, Kuroo willed Kenma to stay passed out. Glancing at Kenma’s soft stomach, he didn’t notice any white streaks on the pale flesh, or pooling around his navel. So, even though it was evident he had been making himself feel good in Kuroo’s absence, he hadn’t been able to finish. At least not outwardly.

Kuroo chuckled softly, this would only happen to him. Having the guy you loved in your bed, wanting you, you growing a conscience and confessing your true feelings to said guy, only for him to be asleep and miss the whole thing.

He reached forward and gently removed Kenma’s hand from himself. The small boy whimpering in his sleep, making Kuroo flinch and praying that he didn’t wake up. Thankfully Kenma flipped over onto his belly and snuggled into Kuroo’s pillows, slowly scissoring his legs to try and rid himself of his jeans.

Grabbing the fabric gently, he worked with Kenma’s movements to relieve him of his clothes entirely. Once free of his pants, Kenma sighed into the pillows, cocking one leg up and to the side, putting all that his Y-chromosome had given him on display to Kuroo’s eyes. His fingertips tingled, wanting to run his hands all over his friend. His mouth watered at the thought of what Kenma would taste like against his tongue.

_No!_ Taking a deep breath, Kuroo grabbed his Hogwarts throw blanket from the chair in the corner, the black background contrasting sharply against the crimson sheets and Kenma’s snowy skin. The large, green snake in the middle of the fabric, which denoted him as a Slytherin, _thank you very much_ , undulated as the fabric settled over Kenma’s tiny form.

Reaching a hand out, like he had done earlier, he pushed a couple of blonde streaks off of Kenma’s forehead. His finger traced the shell of Kenma’s ear as he tucked the strands away. Curling his hand around the opposite side of Kenma’s face, Kuroo bent down and placed a chaste kiss to the boy’s exposed cheek.

“Sleep well, kitten. Please remember this in the morning.” Kuroo voice was low, and serious, it could almost be considered praying. The force of his request so intense that he felt he needed to appeal to God himself, in order for it to come true.

He gathered his strength one more time, and pushed himself away from the sleeping cherub in his bed. Without looking back, he walked through the door, closed it, and settled himself on the couch. Settling in for a few good jerk sessions and then some much needed sleep. He was going to need as much strength as he could muster for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me, or Kuroo. In my original storyline, I had wanted Kuroo to be very consent conscious so I needed to have that come across somewhere. And all I can say for the next chapter or two is also the same... please don't hate me. 
> 
> Also, Axolotl pink relates to the amphibian Axolotl. Look them up, they are precious.


	16. Wrong Side of Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This chapter is going up much earlier than usual this week as a special birthday shout out to KonaCake! Thanks for being amazing and I hope you enjoy, Happy Birthday!
> 
> Song for Reference: Wrong Side of Heaven - Five Finger Death Punch

Kenma laid back on the bed, his skin sliding against blood red jersey sheets as he settled in between overstuffed, midnight black pillows. He had been stripped of all his remaining clothes and was now lying bare ass naked, aside from his kitten themed boxers, in the middle of Kuroo’s queen sized bed. His skin chilled in the cool air of the small room, a light breeze circulated slowly across his heated skin as it followed the undulation of the fan blades above the bed.

He fidgeted nervously, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. His knees were shut tight and his heels were tucked up against his butt. His hands rested fully against his stomach, attempting to hide the slight pouf of his lower belly, which had become slightly chubby since he stopped playing volleyball two years ago, and he had started sitting and vegging more because of his major.

Kenma felt the bed dip as Kuroo kneeled on the mattress and prowled over to him on his hands and knees. The muscles in his shoulders rolled under his tight, lightly tanned skin. His large hands slid softly against the sheets, his palms and fingers splaying wide as he supported himself with each movement closer to him. But, he said nothing as he approached Kenma, as if he had a single, solitary focus. Like a panther stalking its prey, it’s only focus getting its next meal. And it would seem _he_ was that meal.

A jolt of pleasure shot through his spine and out into his fingers and toes as Kuroo’s tongue poked out and ran along his bottom lip, his cock jumping impatiently as he slowly approached him, panting heavily through his open mouth. His knees started to shake in anticipation as Kuroo’s abdomen came up flush against his legs. Kuroo’s skin scalding the flesh of his shins and knees, the muscles under the skin of his abdomen forming small mountains and valleys in the spaces between them that he could feel even through the less sensitive skin of his knees.

Kuroo leaned forward until his face was flush with the side of Kenma’s, nuzzling against the soft skin of his neck and cheeks. He felt a warm, wet stripe run up along the outer edge of his ear and warm air tickled the sensitive space behind the shell.

“Kenma-” The deep base of Kuroo’s voice vibrated through his ears, turning his brain to mush as his knees to fall apart slightly and all the muscles from his cock to his ass twitched and relaxed at the same time. Kuroo took the unspoken invitation and gripped Kenma’s knees firmly and pushing them wider apart. Kenma felt Kuroo’s tongue meander down the side of his neck, aided every so often by a small suck or the gentle scrape of his teeth against Kenma’s flushed skin. His skin was on fire, his insides felt like lava. If Kuroo kept going, he was going to implode and all that would be left would be the quivering, gelatinous goop formerly known as Kenma in his place.

Kenma sucked in a harsh breath as Kuroo’s finger tips ran roughly over one of his nipples, and his tongue laved at the other. His hips jumped up to seek out Kuroo’s and get some friction to ease the burn in his cock. That was until Kuroo gave a particularly hard tweak and suck combo on his sensitive, flushed nipples.

“Ahhh, _hnnng_!” Kenma tried to pull his chest back from the onslaught of pleasure, but Kuroo’s body was too effective at pressing him into the mattress. Cutting off all roads of escape from the addictive sensations his small body was quickly becoming accustomed to.

As Kuroo released him with a lurid, wet pop, Kenma wheezed out a sound somewhere between a moan and a plea. His voice rising higher with each passing moment, exchanging the baritone notes of his vocal range for the breathy, higher tenor pitches.

“That’s it Kitten. Purr for me!” Kuroo commanded as he continued his southward exploration. Pausing to rub his nose and tongue against different points on Kenma’s torso. His tongue darted out and circled his navel before he dipped inside, lightly flicking at the rim.

Kenma couldn’t breathe, his body having come alive at the sensations until it was all he could feel. Until is actually became a _chore_ to force himself to breathe. Expand his lungs and then push the air out. What was oxygen even? Did he really need it? It couldn’t be necessary if all he needed to survive was the roiling het under his skin as Kuroo worshiped his body.

He could feel the slight, bristly scratch of Kuroo’s chin as it grazed the edge of his boxers. _Shit, BREATHE!_ He tried to focus on where Kuroo was, and tried to keep himself from becoming light headed as he pseudo-hyperventilated at the implication of where Kuroo was and what he was about to do.

Kuroo hooked both his index fingers under the elastic and slowly, _painfully_ , he slid the red fabric down Kenma’s hips. The soft cotton sent mini pinpricks of lightning down through his shaft as it grazed over his length.

“Kuro... sto-stop teasing me!” Kenma panted, as he squirmed uncomfortably under Kuroo. He had stopped pulling off Kenma’s boxers at this point, instead focusing on keeping the head of Kenma cock trapped just inside the elastic band. Rubbing it back and forth, he smeared the clear, slippery precum that had gathered at his slit along the inside of his waistband and across the hypersensitive head.

With his trademark smirk plastered to his face, Kuroo gave the fabric a quick, sharp tug and Kenma’s cock bounced out of its cotton prison and out into the open air. Kenma didn’t know what to make of the different temperature sensations his dick was experiencing. The majority of his flesh was boiling hot, but was cooling slightly because of the air circulating in the room. The head of his cock, however, was experiencing what he could only describe as cold fire.

His head was slick as his slit continued to ooze precum and dribble down the side of his cock. But, the fact that Kuroo was so close and _breathing_ against him, was cooling the damp skin more than the rest of him. He felt like the head of his cock was blisteringly hot and cold at the same time.

And then Kuroo just had to go and be an even bigger ass as he pursed his lips and blew a thin, steady stream of air directly across the tip of Kenma’s cock. Causing Kenma to kick his head back into the firm pillows, his back to contort off the sheets, and his cock to jump wildly.

Kenma throat released a choked cry before he could call it back and he felt Kuroo settle into the mattress between his legs. Pushing them slightly wider, almost completely out to the side to accommodate his broad shoulders between Kenma’s narrow hips. Gently, Kuroo’s hands slid from his knees and settled down against his hips, holding him firmly against the bed.

“You look so good, Kenma. So pretty, and hard, and wet. Just for me. I could just _Eat. You. Up_!”

_Then just do it already!_ Kenma couldn’t verbally respond however, his throat had seized up and his mouth had gone dry. He couldn’t have said anything even if he had wanted to. His hips were vibrating, the muscles and bones thrumming under his skin, under Kuroo’s large, broad hands. All he could do was kick his head back and let out a guttural moan as he futilely tried to push his hips up.

“Look at me!” Kuroo’s voice had dropped another octave, issuing the command like a master would to his pet. With no thought of denial or refusal. To which, of course, Kenma complied. Tilting his chin down so he could look into Kuroo’s hazel eyes, he watched in rapt fascination as Kuroo licked his lips and began lowering his head.

_So close!_ Kuroo was so close to him, his cock jumped hard, trying to reach Kuroo’s hot mouth faster. But Kenma never took his eyes off Kuroo, afraid that if he did, Kuroo would stop and he would be stuck in this in between state of imagining and experiencing pleasure.

“ _…ma. Kma…Kenma._ ” Kuroo was calling his name, but his lips weren’t moving. They were opening wide, yes, but no words were coming out. His mouth was only a few inches away; a few more inches and he would be enveloped in the hot depths of Kuroo’s mouth.

_3 inches._

_2 inches._

_1 inch._

Kuroo’s tongue darted out to try to reach Kenma before his lips did. Kenma could feel the heat radiating off Kuroo’s tongue, it was so close to his head. He wasn’t going to last long if this was the kind of torture Kuroo had in store for him

\---

“Kenma, hey wake up.” Kenma’s eyes blinked blearily in the darkened atmosphere of the room. The only light he could see came through a small sliver where the curtains hadn’t fully been pulled together, and from the doorway which stood open.

_No!_

It had been another dream. Another dream where if he had just had a few more minutes to sleep, he would have at least known in his mind what being with Kuroo would be like. How much more of his life was going to be wasted yearning after his best friend?

“Noooooo” Kenma croaked, his throat dry and itchy. His mouth felt like he had stuffed cotton in it and now that all the saliva was gone, he was left with a sticky tongue and gums. The low moan vibrated through his chest and set up residence in his head, amplifying the sound one hundred-fold and making him feel like absolute shit. The edges of his eyes pricked as moisture started to gather behind his lids.

“Here, drink this.” _Kuroo._ That was Kuroo’s voice, but his eyes still hadn’t fully adjusted to the semidarkness so he couldn’t fully make where he was. He knew the he had to be standing either next to him or close to the bed, because the noise was deafening in his ears.

“Don’t … shout…” Kenma shut his eyes and threw his arm over them for good measure. Why did he feel so bad? This must be what Kuroo had described on the many occasions he had woken up with a ‘hang-over’. He remembered going out with Hinata last night but he didn’t think he had consumed _that_ much.

He remembered Hinata taking him out to that really popular club, he had had a few drinks, watched Hinata and Oikawa dance, had a few more drinks, started dancing with Oikawa and Iwazumi, had a few more drinks, Oikawa leaning down to kiss him, and …

_The fuck!_ His mind was an absolute blank after that kiss. Shit, he must have had a lot more alcohol than he thought he had.

“Kenma, seriously drink this. It will help you feel better.” A cool, wet, smooth surface was pressed into his cheek, a few small drops of liquid transferring from the object to his face and running down his cheek.

Adjusting his arm so that he could crack one heavy lid open towards the cool sensation, Kuroo’s face came into focus. Along with a flash of metallic green right next to his eye.

“Sprite.” Kuroo said simply as he waited for Kenma to take the small can he proffered. His eyes roaming slowly over Kenma’s face and body under the blankets, as if making sure he was really okay.

“Mmmmm.” Kenma tried rolling over, he just wanted some more sleep. _Another 10 years should do it._

“No way Kenma, you’ve been asleep for too long. It’s already 3pm. Come on.” Kenma heard a small clunk on the bedside table, and then two thick bands were slipping under his body and lifting him into the air.

“WAH? AH!” The yelp at being lifted into the air only served to make his headache worse and cause his mind to invert and swim backwards. Upstream. His body went limp as he gave up on trying to fight the sensation of being carried. He did notice however, that his body was now cold that he wasn’t under the covers. His _whole_ body.

Glancing down at himself as he rubbed his eyes, he realized he was completely, and utterly naked. In Kuroo’s arms. His hands shot down to cover himself. He didn’t mind being naked, in fact he slept naked or in his boxers 90% of the time. But, it was a whole different scenario when the source of your secret, one-sided love affair was holding you close and you were naked.

_Very different!_

Kenma went candy apple red as Kuroo continued to carry him out into the hall, _ah! Bright!,_ and into the small bathroom. Thankfully though, Kuroo didn’t turn on the overhead light. He just left the door open so that enough light could come in and make navigating the small room and shower possible.

Kuroo sat Kenma down on the small wooden stool in the corner of their shared shower, making sure he was leaned up against the wall so he wouldn’t fall over and turned on the shower head. It took about a minute for the water to warm up enough to make showering pleasant before Kuroo came back and slid Kenma, and the stool, over to the spray.

“Tell me if the water is too hot or cold, okay?” Kuroo asked as he took the showerhead off the wall and plopped down on his haunches behind him. Starting at his feet, Kuroo aimed the spray to flow over his toes and ankles. When he received no reticence, he slowly guided the showerhead up Kenma’s legs to his knees and thighs, before moving up to his back and shoulders and finally stopping over the top of his head.

Combined with the dark room, the muggy air, the warm water sluicing over his chilled skin, and the fact that it was _Kuroo_ in the bathroom with him, _bathing_ him…Kenma could die happy now. If he could just get over this pesky hang over and really enjoy the small gift from the universe he had been given.

All too quickly, the warm water and showerhead were gone, Kuroo having set it off to the side and switching the head off so that water didn’t spray all over the tiny room. He felt firm columns press through his hair, starting at his temples, soothing the edge off his headache and Kenma couldn’t hold back his moan.

Kuroo had apparently swiped his bottle of Green Apple shampoo/body wash that he used and had squeezed some out onto the top of his head when he had released the showerhead, and was now washing his hair. Kuroo’s long fingers slid effortlessly through his blonde tresses as a small rivulet of suds seeped down the side of his face. Kuroo was rubbing small circles into his head, lifting the dirt and grime from his scalp, tilting his head back to keep the bubbles from getting into his eyes.

He didn’t really do much for himself too often, favoring efficiency and promptness over enjoyment and luxury. But, the gentle pressure was relaxing; being pampered like this was absolute bliss. That was until Kuroo’s hands started to wander down his neck and across his back.

His hands were slipping smoothly across his skin, working out the kinks in his muscles from last night. And while Kuroo’s hands in his hair had been relaxing, now they were arousing. The hangover and the darkened room didn’t help as Kuroo’s hands felt like they were all over his body. His back, his chest, his legs. Those hands seemed to be everywhere at once.

But Kenma kept his hands cupped to himself. One, because he was self-conscious of just being naked in front of Kuroo. And two, the heat and the feel of Kuroo’s hands on his skin was one of the most arousing scenarios he could have ever imagined. He didn’t want Kuroo to find out like this. He didn’t want him to find out period.

Before Kenma knew it, the water was back rushing over his skin, taking with it the crisp scent of apples and the small, white bubbles on his body. Once he sat squeaky clean and wet on the stool, Kuroo wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him stand. Which was made even more difficult than it should have been as he stubbornly refused to remove at least one of his hands from his groin.

_When did he fill the tub?_ Kenma questioned as Kuroo helped him into the bathtub, which he realized now was just big enough for the both of them to sit in at the same time; back to chest. The water was hotter than it had been coming out of the shower head and, if there had been more light, he could have even seen tendrils of steam rising from the surface of the crystal clear water.

“Just relax, I’ll be back in a minute, kitten.” Kuroo called out as he left through the doorway.

_Kitten?_ When did that nickname start? Kuroo had only ever called him by his name up until now. Not that it wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t what he was used to. It did however seem vaguely familiar, like Kuroo had used it before, but he couldn’t remember when or why.

Kenma slowly dropped his head back, until the curve at the back of his skull was resting on the edge of the tub. His eyes shuttered closed as he was enveloped in the heat from the tub, his scratchy throat and lungs hydrating as he breathed in the thick cloud of steam in the air. The only sounds in the small room was the occasional drip from the faucet, followed by a high-pitched plop as it hit the full tub. And his own breathing.

So, it was easy for his ears to pick up and register when Kuroo had entered the room again. His bare feet smacking loudly against the tiled floor, his clothes rustling quietly against each other, matching his steps.

The water licked at Kenma’s neck and collarbones as he shifted his head towards Kuroo, who had since squatted down next to the side of the tub, the can of Sprite once again in his hand. Kenma didn’t even flinch as Kuroo reached out to his back, leaning him forward into a seated position in the tub.

_Pssht_. Kuroo punched the top of the drink open and plopped a white, bendy straw into the can.

“Sip slowly or else it could hurt your stomach from all the sugar and gas.” Kuroo warned.

Kenma took the can from him with both hands and brought the straw to his mouth, chasing the white appendage with the tip of his tongue before wrapping his lips snugly around the tip. The first sip was like heaven, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he moaned low in his throat. The cool, sweet, slightly bubbly liquid was exactly what his parched throat and fuzzy mind needed.

He was so engrossed in pulling more of the sweet nectar down his throat, he forgot to go slowly like Kuroo had told him. The sugar and bubbles felt like they were being lodged in the center of his chest, pressurizing his throat and lungs. Kenma blew the straw out of his mouth and coughed, attempting to ease the pressure in his chest.

After hacking for a few minutes, he felt the knot ease behind his ribs and the pressure disappear. His breathing was also easier, no longer gasping shallowly but taking deep drags of air into his lungs. His headache, however, was back with a vengeance now. A lovely little side effect of the effort it took to try and regain his senses after ignoring Kuroo’s directions and acting like an idiot.

At least he was breathing easier until he felt broad, slow circles roaming his back. Then he wasn’t breathing at all. Kuroo was touching him a lot today, and being really kind. Not that he wasn’t always kind, he was just going a little over the top.

Had something happened last night? Had he done something embarrassing that he now couldn’t remember because he had drunk so much alcohol, he how had a blackout in his memory? What could he have done though that would make Kuroo this clingy?

_No!_ Kenma gasped inside his head. He wouldn’t have done … THAT. He _couldn’t_ have done that! He had been so careful, for so long, that he was sure that, even if he was shit-faced drunk, he wouldn’t have … _told_ … Kuroo how he felt.

_Right?_ Kenma continued to stare at the green and silver can in his hands, running the cylindrical tube between his palms. Kuroo’s hand continued to rub circles along his back, even though he had stopped coughing.

“Better?” Kenma chanced a sidelong glance at him, his face mostly shaded because the lights were still off. The only light coming in was through the open door and was now gleaming off Kuroo’s bright smile. “I told you to go slow.” Kuroo chuckled.

Kenma continued to stay silent, his complete focus on Kuroo’s hand which had since traveled up his back, over his neck and was tucking a few damp strands behind his ear. Thankfully, the room was darker than normal or else the blush that was slowly traveling up his body and bleeding into his cheeks would have been poignantly obvious.

Kuroo didn’t move from his squat next to the tub while his hand cupped the side of his head, and Kenma continued to watch him, both men sitting in silence, just watching each other. Making sure he was okay, carrying him to the bath, getting him something to make him feel better. He had to ask. It was too out of the ordinary for Kuroo to be acting… like a boyfriend.

“Kuro-” Kenma was cut off as Kuroo’s phone buzzed and clacked against the tiled floor. Kuroo dropped his hand from Kenma’s head and reached for the phone.

_Don’t answer it! Talk to me!_

Kuroo’s eyebrows scrunched down and unease flickered across his face before he glanced back at him. He seemed to struggle with wanting to answer the phone and staying with him in their tiny slice of heaven.

“Answer it.” _Don’t answer it!_ Kenma watched as Kuroo’s thumb slid across the bottom of his screen as he stood to take his call in the other room.

“Hey, Nowaki. What’s up?” Kuroo flicked the light on as he closed the door.

_OW, bright!_ He winced at the onslaught of the fluorescent bulb above the sink, sending small waves across the water’s surface as he shifted to cover his eyes.

_Oh_ … That’s why he had gone out last night. That’s why he had gotten drunk. That’s why he had danced with Iwaizumi and Oikawa; and had even let Oikawa kiss him. It was because of that one name that had just fallen from Kuroo’s lips.

_Nowaki._

Kenma sat the Sprite can numbly on the side of the tub with a hollow _thunk_ and felt his arm and hand go heavy and dead weight themselves into the bath water with a big, wet splash. Small droplets splattered his face and clung to his chin and nose.

Nowaki. The one he had walked in on Kuroo having sex with, less than 24 hours ago. The one Kuroo had deliberately chosen to embrace, to kiss, to fuck. The one Kuroo had chosen to feel against his own body, skin to skin, as he sank deeply into his waiting, hot body.

Kenma’s legs twitched and he pulled his knees up until he could rest his chin on them and wrapping his arms around his shins, he hung his head. He was overthinking how Kuroo was acting. Kuroo was just acting in his normal caring way since he was hungover from last night. He was the one who was looking too deep and assuming things and situations that just weren’t there.

He felt the all too familiar lump form in his throat and the edges of his eyes pricked hotly. _No_. He was done crying. Done feeling sorry for himself. It was his fault that he had decided to stay silent and pine after his best friend for years without telling him how he truly felt. He had no say in who Kuroo slept with or fell in love with.

He had missed his chance.

Forcing the lump in his throat to subside and refusing to let the tears breach the barrier of his eyelids, Kenma lunged forward to drain the bath. Stepping out of the tub, he snagged one of the fluffy navy towels he used and slung it around his body and under his armpits so the majority of his torso was covered.

Flipping the main light on, he winced at the intense brightness. Blinking slowly, trying to adjust his senses, he slowly made out his features in the mirror. His cheeks were red from the heat of the bath. His eyes were puffy and swollen, not from crying, but from drinking too much and not sleeping well. Small red dots peppered the lids below his eyes which he assumed were from him getting sick once he got home last night.

He carded a hand through his hair, the blonde and black strands slipping through his fingers smoothly. Maybe he should cut it all off. If he was going to start fresh, start trying to live a life that didn’t revolve around his intense, one sided love for Kuroo, he should to look the part.

Before he could change his mind, he shot down and rummaged in the cabinet under the sink. Pushing aside bottles of shampoo, extra rolls of toilet paper, and bottles of bathroom cleaning agents, he found the square, cloth container he needed.

He set the case on the side of the sink and drug the shiny, silver zipper along three of the sides. Flipping the lid off the case, he spied the barber scissors and buzz clippers. He didn’t know which to pick. He wasn’t always the smoothest with scissors, never even being able to make paper snowflakes well. But he was afraid the sound of the buzzing next to his skull that the clippers would elicit would deter him before he could even start.

Wrapping his palm around the steel blades, he wiggled his fingers into the black, plastic finger holds. He snapped the scissors in midair a few times, _just to make sure they worked_. His face in the mirror stared back at him, the edge of the blades flashing in the reflection.

His face was dead. His eyes were dead. Air flowed through his lungs and blood pumped through his veins, but he was for all intents and purposes dead inside and he could see it on his own face. But, that’s what happened to you when your only reason for living decided that you weren’t as important to them as they were to you. It’s what happened to you when the only thing you could do was to let them go and try to pick up the shreds of your miserable existence and try and rebuilt your life so that you could eventually stand on your own two feet again. You wouldn’t be flawless like before, your boat would leak, your walls would be shoddy, but it would do until you could slowly put more and more pieces back into place so that you could eventually withstand the wind and rain that beat against you at every turn.

Kenma brought the shears close to his face and grasped an inch sized chunk of hair and pulled it forward. Opening the blades, he slid the lock of hair between them and laid the strands with blonde on one side and black on the other, the blade lining up directly with where the colors changed.

One small movement of his fingers, and he would be starting over. Leaving his feelings in the past. Looking to the future. One sharp twist of his fingers and the old Kenma would be gone, making way for the new.

He closed his eyes...

sucked in a calming breath…

and brought his fingers into the palm of his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! I'm just gonna preempt that so put away the pitch forks and torches! I love Kenma's hair, it's part of what makes him who he is. But before I knew it, my fingers had started flying and ...THIS happened! Please don't hate me, only a little more angst until we get to some good stuff!


	17. Unlove You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank ya'll enough for stopping by and spending time with my story! All the kudos, and views, and comments give me so much energy and drive to keep writing! Thank you , thank you, thank you to each and every one of you! 
> 
>  
> 
> Song for Reference: Unlove You - Jennifer Nettles
> 
>  
> 
> OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS!!!!! Ringodreams has made an AMAZING piece of art to accompany this chapter! Please check it out and her other pieces, she is amazing and I cannot thank her enough!!! http://ringodreams.tumblr.com/post/160419440221/i-drew-my-two-favourite-scenes-from-chap-17-of  
> Sorry, I can't figure out how to link to the art directly, if someone could be beautiful and tell me how to link the art here that would be amazing!

Kenma looked down at the sea of blonde in the sink under his hands. Random chunks trailing over the edge of the sink and around the faucet handles. Spots of black randomly dotting the monotone material, where his hands had gotten a little too eager and clipped off more than just the blonde portions.

His hands, braced against the edge of the sink, shook with the effort to hold his body upright. The scissors were still in their cutting position between his fingers and clattered lightly against the ceramic surface as he shook.

He forced his eyes from the sink to look at what he had done to himself and took in the opposing Kenma 2.0 in the mirror. Updated. New. Better than the best model on the market.

When in reality, he was just a pretty, sleek façade over a broken hard drive.

Kenma’s fingers slid out of the shears and trembled up towards the short, black, chunky mop on his head. He twisted the stubby lengths through his fingers and thought, _‘maybe he should have had someone cut it for me_ ’. Maybe he could get Yamamoto to help him out, since he was studying to be a cosmetologist. He looked like utter and complete shit.

While he had attempted to follow the stark line between blonde and black, he had still managed to cut into the black areas and had left a few blonde splotches behind. His hair no longer hung straight down from his middle part, but fluffed out lightly to the sides in wavy patches due to his hand being unsteady and rushed. He wondered how it was going to look when it was completely dry.

Was he going to have flyaways and wings at the ends of his hair that curled out when they dried? Taking a small bunch between his fingers, he tried to twirl it around his index finger like he used to. The strands could twist once around his finger, but then easily fell away. _I guess I can still twist if I need to._

Reaching up, he ran both hands through his hair, dislodging any usurper strands that got cut and were possibly seeing refuge in what remained on his head. As a few strands floated down, tickling his cheeks and nose in their descent, he really took a moment to take in his new visage.

His eyes were still a bit red and puffy, a combination of his emotions from yesterday and his poor life choices following those emotions. His skin was shiny and pink from the heat of the bath, plump and elastic now as it fought to counter the alcohol that had dehydrated his system last night. His lips were the faintest tinge of rose petal pink and slightly puffy…

_Odd._

He fingered his bottom lip, tracing the new, bold outlines of the sensitive flesh, questioning why his lips looked different than normal. Usually his lips were pencil thin and were the same color as his skin. Almost as if he didn’t have lips at all. The only other time his lips had been like this had been that one time when …

Kenma slapped his hand over his mouth.

_Shit! Nonononononononononono!_

This couldn’t be happening. He had more self-control than what the situation with Kuroo and the evidence on his mouth were implying.

Looking back at his reflection in horror, he watched as a single tear eked out of the corner of his eyes. The tears slid down his cheeks fast, _crocodile tears_ , leaving wet, salty trails down his cheeks. He had just resolved to be done with all this. And since he couldn’t remember most of last night, what HAD he actually done once he got home from the club?

He was too afraid of the answer to explore the possibilities any further. Again, maybe it was nothing. He remembered Oikawa leaning into his body, hot and painfully aroused, eyes closed and leading with his lips. He couldn’t remember exactly if he had kissed Oikawa or if he had just gotten really close, or what had happened after that though.

 _That must be what happened_ , Kenma convinced himself. He must have ended up kissing Oikawa, _maybe even Iwaizumi too_ , and that explained why his lips looked like they had been thoroughly ravaged. He just wished he could remember it, because from the remains on his lips, it must have been a REALLY good kiss.

It still didn’t completely explain Kuroo’s behavior though. Maybe he was feeling especially clingy after his … activities yesterday. At least, he always seemed to get clingy with the person he was sleeping with at the time. Sticking to their side, constantly talking to them, asking them if they needed anything, trying to maintain physical contact in any form. Kenma shivered at the thought, always having found it nauseating, but not because it made him actually sick but because jealously had flared so hot, and oily in his gut that he felt downright awful.

“Kenma! Come out before you turn into a prune, dinner is ready.” Kuroo belted from somewhere in the apartment. Mostly likely the kitchen, based on his statement. Shoving his hands into the sink, he gathered the blonde tresses between his hands and dumped them into the trash can next to the toilet. Turning on the faucet, he rinsed the few remaining strands and stubs down the drain, completely erasing the evidence of his major life change.

Glancing back at his reflection one more time, flipping a few strands back off his forehead, he took a deep calming breath and pulled open the door.

___

He was going to ask him. The way he had been looking at him in the bath must have meant that he remembered at least a little bit from last night. Kuroo stirred the pot with the broth for the ramen. The aroma of chicken stock, ginger, soy, and sesame oil permeated the air.

His fingers fumbled with the pot’s warm handles slightly as he poured some of the steaming, amber broth into two bowls, the fluid cascading down over the small mountain of noodles he had piled in the dishes. _Just ask him when he comes out. You can do this._

He had wanted Kenma for so long, and if what he had said last night was true, what did he have to lose? Grabbing a small handful of chopped green onions and sprinkling them over the noodles, he finished each bowl with half of a hardboiled egg. The cores still golden and gooey, the trademarks of a perfectly medium boiled egg. Reaching his fingers down, he adjusted the angle of the egg in Kenma’s special pink and white Hello Kitty bowl.

The edges of Kuroo’s mouth turned up fondly at the memory. He had been walking with Kenma at the mall, his eyes wandering to the name brand clothing stores while Kenma was glued to his phone. _Probably playing Angry Birds, or something._

He had reached his arm out to grab Kenma’s elbow so he could steer him into the Hollister, he needed new jeans, when his hand met empty air. Turning around, he noticed that Kenma had disappeared.

Looking around like a parent that had just lost their child in the grocery store for the first time, Kuroo spotted the small, blonde, heart attack inducing kitten standing outside a kitchen supply store. His eyes were no longer glued to his phone, which was hanging by his side, but were now wide and staring straight through the window at one very specific location.

Behind the window was a whole Hello Kitty display and Kenma’s eyes had been focused directly at the product in the center of the window. It was a whole ramen set; complete with a bowl, spoon, chopsticks, and even a plate. And you could buy a set for one or a set for four people.

Kuroo was amazed. Not by the kitschy cat themed dinnerware, but by the amount of interest Kenma was showing in it. Usually he could only get Kenma to show this kind of enthusiasm when a new game came out. And then he had to be careful that he didn’t stay up for three days straight playing it, without eating or sleeping. _Again,_ he reminded himself.

“Kenma, did you want to get that?” Kuroo had questioned. After a moment of silence, Kenma pulled his phone back up to his face and turned away from the window, walking back in the direction they were originally heading.

“No.” _Always a man of so few words_. Kuroo caught up to Kenma, making sure he followed him into the Hollister because he still needed jeans, _thank you very much_. But, he had made a mental note to come back and check out that set when Kenma wasn’t with him.

He had gotten the set for Kenma as his Christmas present that year. And the look on Kenma’s face told Kuroo that he had made the right choice. Kenma wasn’t very expressive, but for those who really knew him could tell almost instantly what he was feeling. And Kenma had made a point to always ask for “his bowl” when they had ramen or other meals that needed bowls, so it just reaffirmed how much he enjoyed his gift.

Kuroo trailed the edge of his finger against the rim of the ceramic bowl, feeling the bumpy outline of the top of Hello Kitty’s bow under his fingertip. It had cost him almost an entire paycheck to pay for it, but it had been totally worth it and he would have done it again in a heartbeat if given the chance.

Gripping the edges of the two bowls, he hefted them up and carried them to the table, which he had already set with chopsticks and spoons. His, a two-tone jet black and blood red set, a stark contrast to Kenma’s dainty white and pink ones.

He heard a shuffling behind him as Kenma came into the room. Kuroo’s back straightened and at the same time, his heart sped up. His eyes were glued to his ramen in front of him, but he could imagine what Kenma looked like fresh out of the bath. His skin baby pink and warm from the heat. His movements languid and fluid as he walked around the table and sat down. His chin length blonde and black hair pushed back off his face and messy, the ends still damp.

Just the thought of what Kenma _might_ look like made him fidget in his chair, trying to relieve the slight pressure behind his boxer briefs. Giving his hands something to do rather than inching towards the waistband of his red Nekoma sweats, he grabbed his chopsticks between his hands and bent his head.

“ _Itadakimasu._ ” Kuroo whispered under his breath as he slipped the metal tines between his long fingers, dipping the thin ends into the steaming broth, mixing the green onion bits into the noodles. “So, what took you so long in the…”

Kuroo’s chopsticks, full of a mouthful of noodles just about to pass his lips, clattered on the table. He was out of his chair and was kneeling next to Kenma’s chair before he even realized he had moved. _What did he do?!_

“Kenma-” he breathed out harshly. His hands had grasped the sides of Kenma’s face, the tips of his fingers brushing against the _black_ tips of Kenma’s hair. “What did you do?”

Kenma just stared back at him, his golden, cat-like eyes never wavering from his. They held the kind of depth and strength that came with resolution. Resolution about what though, Kuroo was unsure.

Kuroo flinched as he felt small fingers wrap around his hands and pull them away from his face.

“It was time for a change.” Kenma stated matter-of-factly, before turning and facing his own bowl of ramen. Kuroo could only stare at the man in front of him. One who sounded like Kenma, and acted like Kenma, but no longer looked like the Kenma he had known for so long. He did look like Kuroo had imagined he would otherwise though. His skin was a pretty shade of pink and shiny with moisture, and his hair was still a little bit damp at the ends. The aforementioned hair was just all jet black now instead of the duotone blonde and black.

His blonde hair had been as ingrained a part of him as his gamer status or introverted persona. How was Kenma okay with his hair shorter now? He had always said that he kept it long because it decreased his field of vision, which helped calm him. If he had just dyed it all black again, it wouldn’t have been so drastic and still have gotten the point across, but black _and_ short?

“Kuroo, sit and eat. I’m fine.” Kuroo padded back to his seat and plopped down in his chair to the sound of Kenma slurping a small mouthful of noodles past his lips. “ _Mmmm_ ,” Kenma moaned as his eyes rolled back in his head, clearly enjoying the meal Kuroo had prepared with his own two hands.

He really shouldn’t be feeling proud at this moment. And his dick definitely shouldn’t be jumping for joy at the small, pleasured noises radiating from Kenma’s throat, wishing his lips were wrapped around something other than just ramen noodles.

Something was bothering Kenma, and it must have been big if he had resorted to such a drastic change. But what grated at Kuroo, more than the fact that Kenma had gone and cut his hair without even asking his opinion, _he can’t even pick out what type of mechanical pencils to buy without asking if the kitten print or the sushi print is cuter!_ , was the fact that it seemed like Kenma either didn’t want to or couldn’t talk to Kuroo about what was bothering him.

He forcefully stuffed a wad of noodles in his mouth and chewed violently, his teeth clacking against one another with each bite. He and Kenma had told each other everything. About how Kenma disliked being out in crowds of people but really worried about what they thought about him. About how his parents kept pestering him about going to summer camp back in high school and how Kenma would rather have eaten nails for breakfast and tacks for snacks than be outside, being active with other people. About how he didn’t get his chemistry homework done because a boss battle had him up all night trying to get to the next level, and now he needed Kuroo to help him understand the stoichiometry problems.

_What is so different this time?_

“I should be the one to ask what happened to you.” Kenma asked as he slurped a small spoonful of the broth and a couple of green onions from the paw shaped spoon while gesturing to the area around his eye with his free hand. “What did you do?”

 _Crap._ Kuroo’s sour mood instantly deflated as his stomach dropped to his feet. Here he was, blaming Kenma for not telling him everything that was going on in his head, while he himself wasn’t willing to completely come out and discuss everything with Kenma.

_Fucking hypocrite._

“It was nothing major. Just something dumb on my part.” As he glanced up at Kenma, the small man tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy, _goddamn that’s adorable._ He picked up his bowl and drained the remaining liquid. “Honestly, it wasn’t even worth it in the end.”

He tried to offer Kenma a reassuring smile, but he could tell that the motion only went as far as his mouth. A true smile involved all the facial muscles. The forehead lifted, the cheeks appled out, the nose squinched up, and the eyes crinkled at the edges. None of those were happening now.

He needed to derail this conversation and get up and moving. Get out of this chair so his feet would stop bouncing under the table as he fidgeted. Out from under the inquisitive, feline gaze on the other side of the table. Give his hands something else to do, rather than grab the small body in front of him, hold it to his own and kiss every, delicious inch of it. He shook his head, grabbed his empty bowl and pushed back from the table.

“Want me to take your bowl?” He could see a few spoonsful of broth barely covering Hello Kitty’s eyes in the bottom of Kenma’s bowl. He got a ‘ _mmm_ ’ in response and reached for the pink and white set when Kenma held it out to him.

He almost dropped the bowl as his fingers brushed gently against Kenma’s smaller ones. Warmth flooded the offending digits and they twitched to seek out more of Kenma’s skin. If Kenma was embarrassed by the contact, it definitely didn’t show. He just continued to look up at him, head tilted to the side and the only look on his face one of inquisition.

 _Pull back!_ he screamed at himself. He reluctantly brought the bowl into his body and walked over to the sink. Gently placing the bowls down in the basin, he flicked the faucet on and cranked the handle to the left to make the water go from arctic to scalding. Anything to get his mind off his current situation.

How were they going to get past this? True, Kenma probably had no recollection of last night, but it was branded in Kuroo’s mind. The feel of Kenma’s hot skin against his. The warm, wet cushion of his lips brushing against his own. How his small, throaty moans had filled the apartment and his brain.

The way he had said his name.

“I’m gonna go watch Trolls.” Kenma muttered. His chair squeaked as he pushed back from the table, his bare feet plodding quietly against the laminate floor.

Kuroo had surprised Kenma by having all their friends get together to go see the movie at the theater as a late birthday party for him. They had even gone to the really fancy theater that had the big recliner type, leather seats and you could even order food and drinks and enjoy your meal during the movie.

He had gotten the idea when they had been watching reruns of Pokémon Indigo League on TV. A commercial for the movie kept popping up at least once an episode and every time, without fail, Kenma would stop whatever he was doing just to watch the commercial.

It had been just like with the Hello Kitty bowl. When he had asked if Kenma wanted to see the movie, he had declined and always gone back to whatever he was doing. But when Kuroo had surprised him with the tickets and all their friends at the theater, Kenma had given him one of his ever-elusive smiles.

And any time he saw that smile, especially directed at him, it was like a fucking arrow through the heart.

Kenma had loved the Trolls movie, he said it reminded him of a cross between anime, My Little Pony, and Pokémon. And he had made sure to get Kenma a copy once White Day came around in March.

 _Fuck!_ Kuroo’s hands stilled in the sink. He watched as the basin began to fill with crystal clear water. Mixing with the bright blue Dawn liquid he had plopped in the sink, white frothy bubbles began to form on the surface.

He was never going to forget last night. He knew even now, that if he called Nowaki or any of the girls who were constantly trying to get into his pants to have them help him try and forget, he would only be able to see Kenma. Last night had ruined him.

Well, if he was doomed to a life of never being truly happy with the one he loved, he was at least going to go out with a bang. No more hiding. No more regrets.

“So,” he hollered so that he could be heard over the faucet and the movie, “Do you remember anything from last night?” Switching the faucet off, so that the sink didn’t overflow, he tossed the bowls they had eaten out of, along with the cutting board and pots, into the foamy solution.

All he got was a noncommittal grunt from the other side of the TV. _Really_. That’s all he was going to get? _Maybe I can jog his memory a bit._

“Well, it was quite entertaining to see you so drunk for once. Usually you’re the one who has to take care of me.” He chuckled as a sea of memories flooded his brain. Late nights after exams were all done, celebrating at the local dive bar off campus. More birthday parties than he could count, either at different bars, clubs, or people’s houses. Even a couple of dates he had been on had resulted in a black out or two.

But there was always one common factor. Kenma. Kenma was always there to take care of him when he wasn’t feeling his best. So, the fact that the roles had switched and he had been able to take care of Kenma for once, warmed Kuroo from the inside out. Well, that and the knowledge of what had happened after that made that comfy, homey warmth morph into something hotter and much less - _comfy._

 _Come on, just ask. More than likely he’s gonna say he doesn’t remember and that ‘of course he loves you, you’re his best friend’. Just get it over with, so you can move on_.

Taking a deep breath, he plunged his hands into the soapy water, some splattering back onto his chest and face. Grabbing Kenma’s bowl and a rag, he began to wipe the inside of it until it was clean, removing all the remaining dregs of the meal they had just shared. Wiping it clean of all memories they had shared. It was time to come clean.

“So, are you sure you don’t remember anything from last night?” One more chance. One more chance to stop him before he blurted out what he was thinking and possibly ruined their friendship forever.

“I said I don’t remember Kuro, why do you keep asking?” If his hands weren’t already drenched with dishwater, his palms would have been sweating. He could feel pinpricks of apprehension along the back of his neck come to life. His heart summersaulted in his chest.

_Here goes nothing._

“Well, I was just wondering because last night you said you loved me and tried to get me to fuck you. I just wanted to know what that was about?”


	18. True Colors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! In case you didn't catch last week's update, Ringodreams made an AMAZING piece of art to go with the last chapter so if you haven't seen it yet, make sure you go back to the last chapter and check it out! 
> 
> This chapter incorporates a very specific song for reference in being "True Colors" THE MOVIE VERSION from the movie Trolls. If you haven't seen the movie, I highly recommend (because I am a huge nerd who loves love stories in case you couldn't tell). But even if you don't like the movie, just go and watch the song on youtube or something for reference!
> 
> THIS IS WHAT WE HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR!

Ensue the longest Kuroo has had to wait for anything in his entire life.

Three seconds, _no problem._

Ten seconds, _okay, maybe he’s thinking of an answer._

Thirty seconds, _I know it was an out of the blue, completely crazy question, but come on!_

He risked a glance and peeked into the living space just on the other side of the dining room table. Kenma was in his typical position. Right side of the couch, feet tucked up against his bottom, chin resting on his knees. But… something was off. His eyes were peeled wide, but appeared to be focused on the screen in front of him, and his mouth hung open slightly.

_Odd._ Kenma had seen this movie more times than he could count. He had watched it with Kuroo so many times that even _he_ knew all the lines. Yeah, he was at the part where the trolls had been found out by the exiled Bergen chef after throwing “ _the biggest, the loudest, the most craziest party ever!”_ but it wasn’t like there was new, never before seen scene that randomly showed up in the film.

“Hey, Kenma, did you hear me?” Kuroo felt suds drip off his fingers and splatter on the linoleum floor. _Shit!_ Rushing back to the sink to grab a hand towel, he heard a soft, rushed, pitter-patter of feet behind him.

_I don’t remember this part having trolls running about?_ he questioned, as evidenced by Princess Poppy heatedly discussing with Branch about why he should help her save her friends. But as a door slammed behind him, it clicked. Kenma had taken the opportunity of Kuroo having his back turned to run and hide in his room.

Pivoting on his feet and dropping the towel on the floor, he sprinted towards Kenma’s room. _No way, it’s not possible._

Skidding to a stop in front of the white door frame decorated with different gamer insignia, Kuroo reached for the silver handle and attempted to turn it.

He only got about a half inch of movement before the handle resisted. Locked out. Yet another nail in the coffin that continued to confirm Kuroo’s suspicions.

Here he was, trying to give Kenma an out. A way to correct Kuroo for looking more into last night that he should have. And all Kenma had done was make it look like what Kuroo had thought was in fact, _exactly_ what it had looked like.

“Kenma, open the door and talk to me.” Kuroo tried the handle again, thinking maybe this time it wouldn’t be locked. However, once again his hand was met with the door knob’s reluctance to yield to his palm. 

He didn’t know where Kenma was on the other side of the wooden barrier. Was he in his bed, covers over his head and hands pressed tightly against his ears so he couldn’t even hear Kuroo on the other side of the door? Or was he just on the other side, mere inches from his fingertips that if he could just reach through the door, his warmth would fill his palm?

Gently, he pressed his ear to the door. Maybe if he stopped breathing and listened hard, he would be able to discern where Kenma was. Figure out if him standing here, waiting, trying to get the small cat-boy to talk to him, was even worth it. _I could always kick the door down, but then I wouldn’t get the deposit back._

A loud rustle echoed across the thin wood of the door which indicated that Kenma hadn’t gone far. He could hear Kuroo. At least he hoped he could, and he wasn’t just standing there with his hands over his ears. He swiveled his head on its axis so his forehead now replaced his ear on the door.

“Kenma,” Kuroo’s voice wavered as he rasped the name out of his throat, “Please, just…just tell me what’s going on? Why did you say you loved me?”

“ _Dsnt mrr_ …” a choked voice mumbled through the door.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter.” The voice firmer now. Kuroo’s nails dug into the door, skipping slightly across the paint at the pressure.

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

“It just doesn’t.”

“It matters to me. Tell me why you said you love me. _Please_!” His eyes were shut so hard he could see stars start to form in the center of the black abyss behind his eyelids. He was pretty sure he was going to have a permanent imprint of the door molding on his forehead, but he didn’t care. If Kenma was being this stubborn to not give him an answer, he was going to keep on hoping for the answer he had always wanted to hear.

“SHUT UP! IT DOESN’T MATTER!” Kenma screamed so loud, Kuroo’s head flew back from the door, thoroughly convinced he was going to suffer hearing loss from the outburst.

_Shit,_ had he pushed too far? Kenma never yelled, never even raised his voice if he was upset. _Well, except for that one time last night, but that was different._ This was new territory for Kuroo and he didn’t even have a map or a fucking compass to try and navigate through this storm.

“It doesn’t matter that I love you more than anything!” the voice on the other side of the door stuttered around sobs, “I would gladly give up playing another game for the rest of my life just to be with you. But it doesn’t matter because … because you don’t want me back.” A thick, heavy, sliding reverberance traveled down the other side of the door, the next words coming from a few feet above floor instead of right in front of his face. “You never have, and you never will. And nothing I can ever do will change that.”

Kuroo felt his lungs shrivel up in his chest, the organs unable to draw in air. His mind went blank at the thought that Kenma thought that Kuroo didn’t want him. Kuroo wavered on the spot and the next thing he knew, his legs gave out and his knees cracked hard on the floor outside Kenma’s door, the pain that should have radiated up through his thighs dulled against the onslaught of understanding.

His heart broke as he heard muffled, wet sobs tear from Kenma’s throat as though he was trying to stifle the emotion behind his hands, and at the realization that he was the cause for so much of the boy’s suffering. Apparently, for what had been _years_. He had to fix this. He couldn’t let Kenma hurt any longer. He was going to give Kenma closure, one way or another.

“Ken-” his voice cracked, his mouth and vocal chords now drier than the desert. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Kenma, why on _earth_ did you think I didn’t want you?”

“Don’t make me do this, _please!_ I told you, it doesn’t matter anymore.” the boy’s small voice pleaded.

“And I told you, it DOES matter.” Kuroo pleaded. _Just keep him talking._ Once Kenma stopped talking, he was afraid he was going to shut down completely and they would never be able to fully get everything out in the open. Never fully understand what the other was thinking.

“Fine, you want to know so bad? I’ll tell you. You have had more girlfriends and fuckbuddies than a revolving door. But I was always okay with that, because they were girls, and you had never shown any interest in guys. At least… until yesterday.”

_No. Please don’t tell me…_

“I came back from class and, and I heard you with N-Nowaki.” A muffled sob tore from Kenma’s throat at the other man’s name. “Why? I had convinced myself that if you had ever wanted to experiment with guys, you would have felt comfortable asking me first. You’re my best friend Kuro, I know you better than anyone. And you know me better than anyone. If you wanted to experiment, it could have been with me. It _should_ have been with me. Why wasn’t it?”

Kuroo glanced down at his hands. _Why are my hands wet?_

He saw small puddles on the back of his hands, his thighs, and the floor. He was crying. He had hurt this man in so many ways, and he hadn’t even realized it. _Everything_ he had ever done, was to try and keep Kenma happy and safe.

How had he so royally fucked up?

“Kenma, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know you felt that way about me. I thought I was keeping you safe and happy, trust me if I had known-”

“DO I SOUND HAPPY?!” Deep, body racking sobs poured from under the door.

“Please, let me explain!” Kuroo pleaded, he couldn’t let it end like this. If Kenma’s feelings were even half of what the felt for the boy, and judging by the uncontrollable sobs they must be, he maybe had a small chance to fix everything. “Kenma, I have been in love with you ever since I saw you at the playground. You looked so small and alone sitting by yourself, that I first thought I had to help you.” _Keep going, get it all out._

“But, then, you looked up at me with your beautiful, golden eyes and I was lost. I was so completely fucking lost Kenma, and I have been lost ever since. But, I never told you because I never thought that someone so innocent and beautiful could _ever_ feel that way about me. You never even showed the slightest interest in anyone, let alone me, so I thought that maybe you just didn’t like people in general in a romantic way. And I wasn’t going to put you into an uncomfortable situation if that was the case. But believe me, I thought about you all the time, if we were together or apart. And I still do, to this day, think about you. And how unbelievably amazing it would be to be able to stand next to you as more than just friends.” He was shaking. Full out, limbs quaking, teeth chattering, heart palpitating, _shaking._

“I-I love you Kenma. So, so much. Like, _fuck_ , I don’t know. It sounds ridiculous and completely out of the blue, but I do. I love you Kenma. Please believe me.” Kuroo waited, his breath stuck in his lungs, his eyes glued to the door. Hoping, _praying,_ his feelings got through to him.

“Bullshit.”

Kuroo sat back on his heels, his hand sliding from the smooth wood of the door to hang at his sides, his knuckles brushing against the floor. His gamble hadn’t paid off. He had fucked up, and there was no way to fix it. Kenma didn’t believe him.

How were they ever going to come back from this? He had thought he was ready to lay it all out, tell Kenma how he really felt about him and damn the consequences, if he lost his best friend in the process so be it.

But, now? Now that that consequence was a very possible reality? He couldn’t handle it. He clutched at his chest as his heart attempted to clamber out of his chest, fully willing to lay itself at Kenma’s feet and beg him to take its feelings seriously. His head swam at the thought that he was going to be alone. Kenma would probably move out at the first chance he got and would never contact him again.

_No, no no no no!_ There had to be some way. Something that would make Kenma believe him. The sound of Kenma’s choked cries mingled with the screams from the TV as the trolls were being prepared to be eaten for Trollstice.

_That’s it!_

“Well, if you won’t believe my words, then believe this.” He waited about thirty seconds for the exact right moment, took a deep breath and began to sing along with Branch in the movie.

_“You with the sad eyes…”_

His voice crackled a little. He hadn’t sung in a long time, and on top of that, the song was just out of his range as a baritone, so he had to strain his voice. But, it hopefully was going to be worth it. In the few seconds pause between the first and second lines, he cleared his throat.

_“Don’t be discouraged.”_

The sobs from the other side lightened.

_“Oh, I realize, it’s hard to take courage. In a world full of people, you can lose sight of it all. The darkness inside you, can make you feel so small.”_

The cries had completely disappeared at this point, only wet whimpering remaining, which had to be a good sign, _right?_ He hadn’t been told to go to hell, or to even stop, so he kept going.

_“Show me a smile, then. Don’t be unhappy can’t remember when I last saw you laughing. This world makes you crazy, and you’ve taken all you can bear just call me up, ‘cause I will always be there.”_

His voice was evening out, the tenor and base notes lilting across his vocal cords and past his lips. It had been so long since he last sang that he was afraid he wasn’t going to be able to do it. But it was just like riding a bike; once you learn, you never truly forget.  

One last though crossed his mind before the most important part of the song. Since their doors had to be a mandatory two inches off the floor, there was just enough space to wriggle his fingers under the door.

_“And I see your true colors shining through. I see your true colors,”_

His fingers had only met air up until this point, but just as he got to the crucial moment, his fingertips bumped against Kenma’s.

_“And that's why I love you...”_

Kuroo just sat in silence, as the song continued to play in the back ground, his fingers pressed gently against Kenma’s underneath the door. Hoping, willing him to give him some sign that his feelings had finally gotten through to him.

Kuroo’s body started as he felt a warmth envelop his index and middle fingers. Sending out every sensory fiber he had, he attempted to discern what had surrounded his fingers.

Small. Warm. Similar in shape to his own…

Kenma’s hand. Kenma had gently wrapped his small fingers around his. Like a child seeking comfort from a parent when they had nowhere else to turn. Somehow that small hand was keeping him grounded more than his own body mass and gravity. A lifeline in a swirling sea of uncertainty and the unknown.

“Kenma, I-”

“Keep, keep singing.” The small voice pleaded from the other side. _Anything for you, kitten. Just don’t push me away._

Taking no more time than it took to draw breath and find his place once again, he finished out the song.

_“So, don't be afraid to let them show, your true colors, true colors are beautiful.”_

He didn’t want to crush the small morsel of hope Kenma had dropped for him. A life saver tossed out to him on the choppy ocean. But, if Kenma was willing to meet him this far, maybe he could go a little further.

Twisting his wrist, and banging it on the underside of the door, he laid his palm open on the floor. The fibers of Kenma’s carpet brushing against the back of his hand and making it itchy. He wiggled his fingers when Kenma’s hand didn’t automatically meet with his again, urging him to take his hand fully.

As Kenma’s fingers tentatively intertwined with his, he released the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding in. His whole body shuddered, both from the intensity of the situation and the unbridled hope that was bubbling like lava to the surface of his being. Maybe he hadn’t completely fucked up. Maybe he had, in fact, done the right thing in the end.

_“Like a rainbow…”_

Kuroo’s voice trailed off after the verse as he let Princess Poppy finish off the song. If Kenma taking his hand, twining their fingers together, and telling Kuroo he loved him meant anything, he left that door open for Kenma cross over. He had met him halfway, more than half way, and Kenma had to just close the last few inches on his own.

Something Will Smith had said in the movie Hitch about going 90% and letting the girl come the last 10% flashed through his mind. True, Kenma wasn’t a her, but the advice worked in this situation all the same.

_Come on Kenma, meet me the last 10%._

_____

Kenma had gone over to Kuroo’s house after school in his first year at Nekoma. He had a big assignment due tomorrow for biology and he hadn’t even started yet and needed Kuroo’s help. They had known each other for so long at this point, Kenma just walked into the house when he came over. Even Kuroo’s mom referred to him as a second son.

And that day had been no different. He had just walked in the front door, kicked off his shoes, and headed for Kuroo’s room. He was probably lying on his bed, sprawled out like a Calvin Klein model, and either doing school work or reading something deep like ‘Lord of the Rings’, ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’, or ‘The Picture of Dorian Grey’.

Schlepping his backpack further up on his shoulder, he reached for the banister of the stairs to head up, but was immediately stopped in his tracks. Kuroo’s voice was traveling through the empty house, but it wasn’t coming from upstairs. And it wasn’t his normal speaking voice.

This voice rose and fell in a predictable pattern. The syllables flowed together as the mix of vowels and consonants danced elegantly through Kenma’s head.

_Singing._ Kuroo was singing. He had never heard him sing before and… It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. The sultry, deep notes had licked across his skin like melted chocolate. Thick, heady, and _oh_ so sweet.

Kenma had crept as quietly as he could in his socked feet to the door of the kitchen and peeked in. Kuroo had his broad back to the door and was doing something in front of the stove. Judging by the sweet aroma tinged with spice, he assumed he was making a dessert of some sort.

_Kuroo doesn’t really like sweets._ He thought, as he continued to watch Kuroo’s thick form sway in front of the stove. The words and notes of the song, heavy and thick, complementing the sweet, spicy noted of the dish he was cooking.

It took Kenma a minute to figure out what it was Kuroo was singing, since it was in English. But, once he figured it out, his eyes shuttered closed and his heart clenched in his chest.

_‘Can’t Help Falling in Love with You’ by Elvis Presley._

It was a love song. A song a man would sing to the love of his life to show them how much they meant to him.

Kuro had been seeing some girl from the academic team recently. That song must be for her. As much as he wanted to keep listening to the angel in front of him, his heart couldn’t take what that song implied.

Kuroo would never sing to him like that. Especially not a love song. Not in a million years. In a rush before he could talk himself out of it, he put an end to one of the most beautiful sights he had ever laid eyes on.

“Kuroo, I didn’t know you could sing.” He watched as Kuroo almost jumped out of his skin, his face white and his eyes cranked wide. Like a cornered animal about to be shot just because it was delicious and had a pretty hide.

“KENMA! Wh-when did you get here?” Kuroo stuttered, “Why are you here? How much did you hear?!”

Kuroo wasn’t easily flustered, so his reaction to Kenma hearing him sing piqued his interest. “I needed some help with a bio assignment. How come I’ve never heard you sing before, I’ve known you forever.”

“Well, no reason really. I’m just self-conscious about my voice. I mean, I like singing, just not in front of people, okay. Is that a crime?” Kuroo’s voice had taken on a sharp edge as he quickly crossed his arms over his chest in, what appeared to be, an attempt to protect himself.

“Kuroo, I was just curious, I’m sorry if I offended you. But, your voice is beautiful. Just so you know. What did you make?” Quick, concise, easy. He had said what he wanted to and given Kuroo something else to focus on instead of his embarrassment.

Kuroo just stared at him for a moment before it seemed he regained his composure. “Uh, apple pie.” He said sheepishly. “Want some?”

Kenma’s mouth had watered the second Kuroo said apple. Apple pie was one of his all-time favorite things and he had never turned down an opportunity to indulge.

“Yeah.” Heading into the kitchen and pulling a black plate from the cabinet and bringing it over to Kuroo, who had already cut out a perfect slice. The pie was still steaming as it hit his plate. The crust, a lattice pattern, was perfectly golden brown and crispy on the top while still slightly chewy on the bottom. As the side of the pie began to pour out onto to the plate, he could see the pale flesh of the apples mix with the small, brown flecks of whatever spices Kuroo had used in the filling.

Holding his plate out like it was ambrosia from the Gods, he carried his plate to the table, asking over his shoulder as he went, “So are the song and the pie for your girlfriend?”

The stunned silence didn’t register to Kenma until just before he had plunged his fork into the tender pastry. Glancing up at his best friend, he saw something akin to hurt and dejection pass across Kuroo’s face before his typical smirk replaced it and he came over to sit opposite of him at the table with his own slice of pie.

“Yup, you guessed it. Nagisa really enjoys apple pie and asked me to make her something. This is my first attempt at the lattice crust though, so be sure to tell me how it is.” Kuroo waved his hand at Kenma, urging him to dig in.

Kenma pierced the pie with his fork, making sure to get all the components into a single bite. The brown, flakey crust, the pale, soft apple, and the delicious, spicy apple pie ‘gravy’ inside. Just as he was about to pass the fork between his lips, he paused.

“And the song?” He had to know. Give him something, some sort of plausible explanation so that he didn’t let that song and voice haunt him forever.

“Oh, she also wanted me to try being more romantic, so I decided to sing her a song. I usually sing a song for my girlfriends. It’s a great way to get the mood right, you know?” Kuroo quickly glanced down and began to shovel pie into his mouth.

_I knew it._ At least now he could eat his pie, work on his bio project, and continue pining for Kuroo in peace and not have another tempting thing like, _oh having the voice of the next Frank Sinatra,_ hanging out in his brain.

Blowing gently on the still slightly steaming bite in front of him, he let the bite of pie acquaint itself with his tongue.

His eyes rolled back in his head and he was able to, at the last second, contain the embarrassing moan that almost escaped his throat.

_Holy FUCK, he can bake too!?_

_____

Kenma couldn’t believe it. One hand wrapped around his mouth and chin. The other down at his side, Kuroo’s thick index and middle fingers grasped between his small, clammy hand..

Kuroo never sang. At least not in front of people. As outgoing and confident as Kuroo was, one of his only weaknesses was singing. It made him feel incredibly self-conscious.

He had said he only sang to his girlfriends, and only as a romantic gesture. But here he was. Crouched outside his door, fingers wedged beneath it to take hold of his hand. And singing.

_Singing!_

And on top of that, singing _to him!_

Kenma closed his eyes and breathed through his nose as he tried to calm his screaming heart. ‘ _Let me out! He’s calling to me, he wants me, I must go to him!’._ His heart was banging around behind his ribs, looking for any type of opening so it could escape his chest.

_No! Calm down. Don’t get ahead of yourself. It’s still possible that this means nothing._ He must be crazy, he was having an internal monologue between his brain and his heart. Maybe this all was in fact a dream.

He bit down on the inside of his cheek until the coppery taste of blood flooded his tongue. And as he continued to sit there, his butt going numb, his tongue tasting blood, and the elegant timber of Kuroo’s voice coating over every nerve ending he had; he realized that this wasn’t a dream.

This was real.

Kuroo was really, _really_ singing to him. And, Kuroo…

Kuroo _loved_ him!

Tilting his head back to rest on the door, he felt rivulets of tears run down both sides of his face. Keeping his mouth covered to try and muffle the sobs as they ripped from his throat. The warmth from Kuroo’s fingers grasped in his tiny fist heated his to his core. Melting the frozen marrow in his bones.

He felt Kuroo’s hand pull back from his and he almost screamed and scrambled to keep his hand there, until he realized what Kuroo was trying to do. His long, elegant fingers were splayed wide, palm up on the crisp, white carpet. He wanted Kenma to hold his hand fully, properly. Interlacing their fingers like the fragile tendrils of their hearts wanted to entwine with each other.

Looking down at the wavy outline on Kuroo’s palm, he hesitantly reached out his trembling fingers. The pads of his fingers traced up from the base of Kuroo’s hand, the edges of his blunt nails scraping gently at Kuroo’s heart, health, and love lines, before weaving his own fingers into the negative space between Kuroo’s.

Before their knuckles even matched up with each other, Kuroo’s hand was shooting up in the space it was allowed, clamping down onto his hand. His fingers bowed slightly where his knuckles met his palm, at least until he returned the hold in kind.

His hand was sweating, making his hold on Kuro’s hand slightly uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t have let go of that hand even if gravity ceased to exist and they started to float up into space.

“ _Like a rainbow…”_

The end of the song had arrived, but Kuroo didn’t finish it off with Princess Poppy’s repeat of Branch’s line. He could hear her small, high voice in the background, so it wasn’t like Kuroo didn’t know to repeat the line.

He was waiting for him to finish the song. To reciprocate his feelings. To show Kuroo that he felt the same way and to not leave him handing.

This is what he had wanted for so long, but so much had changed in the last 24 hours that he didn’t know if he could move forward, or if it would be best to let Kuroo go. Give both of them the chance to be happy.

Releasing a heavy sigh, he knew what he had to do without even spending another moment deciding whether to do it or not. He released Kuroo’s hand, the other man scrambling frantically at the loss of contact.

Kenma pushed himself away from the door and pivoted on his hip until his knees were resting a few feet back from the door. Twisting the lock, he knew there was no turning back as he flicked the knob and slowly opened the door.

The hinges wailed a high-pitched scream, that sounded much louder than it probably was in the silent space, as he slowly pulled the door open. Kuroo’s hair, black and spiked all over the place, was the first thing his eyes saw through the crack in the door.

Kuroo’s head was tilted down, almost as if dejected because Kenma had let go of his hand, and he had imploded as a result. Once Kuroo realized that Kenma had opened the door, his head snapped up so fast, he worried Kuroo was going to have whiplash as a result.

Kenma opened the door until about half of his body was visible, feeling like if he opened the door fully, he would be putting his entire being on the line. And if this was still indeed a dream or a misunderstanding, he didn’t know if he could handle the rejection yet again.

His hand gripped the edge of the door, just under his chin, as he peaked his face around the edge of the door. Kuroo looked so hopeful. His hazel eyes were searching his face at an unimaginably rapid pace, his mouth was open slightly, light pants passing between his lips, his hands clenched so hard on his thighs that his knuckles were ghost white.

Kenma swallowed hard, his throat having gone suddenly parched at the prospect of what he was about to do and how it was going to change his and Kuroo’s relationship forever. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth, and in a small half speaking, half singing voice:

‘ _Like a r-rainbow…”_

He didn’t hear anything from Kuroo. Not a gasp, not a sob, not even a laugh saying that this was all some colossal joke. He cracked his lids open, fully expecting to wake up in his own bed and see his white ceiling above his bed, or to see that Kuroo had left him sitting on the floor of his room, his heart on his sleeve.

What he saw stole the breath from his lungs. He wasn’t in bed, he was exactly where he thought he was, and Kuroo was still there. But he was no longer looking at him. His head was hung low, almost to the floor and buried in his hands. His body shaking visibly. Violently.

Slowly reaching his hand out, Kenma threaded his hand through Kuroo’s jet black hair, the other man jolting at the contact. He felt the softy, silky strands dance over his fingers as he pushed them deeper into Kuroo’s hair, angling them down over the back of Kuroo’s head and around his skull to rest under his chin.

His fingers dug gently into Kuroo’s chin, forcing Kuroo to show him his face. He could feel the stubble on Kuroo’s chin prickle against the pads of his fingers. He always looked good with his 5 o’clock shadow dusting the edges of his chin line. It gave him a roguish appearance that quite frequently made appearance in his spank bank. 

Kuroo’s eyes were swimming. He could see the build-up of tears behind Kuroo’s lids, but they refused to spill over and stain his cheeks. But, they were so close that anything more and they would be falling freely, like a broken dam. And he wanted that. He wanted Kuroo to cry over him, like he had done so many times.  

He felt his lips tingle, like they were imagining doing something all on their own. _Maybe that’s the ticket._ Slowly, so as not to scare the man in front of him, he leaned forward. With each inch, Kuroo’s eyes got wider and his breathing became shallower and faster.

He stopped just before he got to Kuroo’s mouth, their breaths mingling in the shallow space left between them. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and ran his tongue over it. _Okay, not too chapped._

He could just lean forward and bring them together, it was the final step in his ‘throw-everything-to-the-wind-and-hope-it-doesn’t-devolve-into-an-absolute-clusterfuck-of-misunderstanding-and-then-we-don‘t-even-stay-friends-afterwards-because-it-is-too-akward-now’ master plan.

But, before he had time to actually pluck up the courage to close the last hair width’s distance, he felt Kuroo’s lips gently press against his.

It wasn’t fast, or hasty, or rough. Just a smooth slide of plump lips and a little bit of slick saliva. Nothing more than the barest touch of slightly over sensitized skin.

And it blew Kenma out of his socks, until he was floating in outer space.

He had never experienced something so intense in his life. His body was on fire. Fireworks were exploding behind his eyes. His heart was beating like he had just run from his dorm to one of his classes, _which should be classified as a mini-marathon._

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see anything besides Kuroo’s face against his, _and okay yeah, akward. Aren’t you supposed to shut your eyes when you kiss?_ and he couldn’t move away from the door and the warm body in front of him. And he wouldn’t have tried, even if he could. It felt like it went on forever. Five seconds? Ten minutes? 24 hours? He could have kept kissing Kuroo until the world stopped turning.

Almost as soon as it began, the kiss ended as Kuroo pulled back from him. But he didn’t go far. He just pressed back in, resting their foreheads together.

“Ummm…” Kenma stuttered, scrambling to find the right words to say following the most perfect kiss he had ever had.

“Mmm,” Kuroo mumbled, “THAT, was what our first kiss should have been like.”

Kenma blanched and shot backwards from him. _Wait.. WHAT?!_

“What are you talking about?” Combined with Kuroo’s comment in the kitchen, he was pretty sure now that his puffy lips hadn’t been from Oikawa’s kiss. But he could not for the life of him remember kissing Kuroo before.

“Last night you were a bit, well, let’s say aggressive when I brought you home from the bar.” Kuroo chuckled as he coughed the last word, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his head.

_I was WHAT?!_


	19. Hallelujah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reference song: Hallelujah – The Canadian Tenors (there are lots of different versions and covers of this song, but this is the one I used for this chapter).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter ended up being a bit fluffy and didn't exactly end the way I wanted it to, but I need to post so I can keep working on the rest of the story. The ending may seem like it ends here but there are AT LEAST four more chapters to go after this, so buckle up! 
> 
> I am currently also working on an Asanoya one shot that is about halfway done and it is SUPER smutty/ explicit. So If I can get it finished and my editor gives it the go ahead I may post it by the middle of next week or the week after. It won't be posted in place of Kurse though so no worries.
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for sticking with this story! All your comments, kudos, and views bring me so much joy and validation that it presses me to keep writing! So, please enjoy!

Kenma tongued at the long, slender appendage in front of him. Wrapping his lips around the tip, he laved at the entrance before hollowing his cheeks and sucking vigorously. To which he was rewarded with a dark, earthy flavor as it exploded over his tongue and filled his senses.

The screen on Kenma’s PSP went black as it loaded the next scene in the Kingdom Hearts storyline. He took a moment to pop the straw from between his lips and glance around the crowded café, looking for his pumpkin haired, ray of sunshine friend.

Hinata had said he wanted to share some big news with him, so they had decided to meet up today, even though it was a Sunday and they had school tomorrow. But, he also wanted to share _his_ news with Hinata, so it worked out perfectly.

Glancing down at his Double Chocolatey Chip Frappa-chiller with one pump of peppermint and extra whipped cream, his mind wandered. Like the condensation on the outside of the plastic cup, drifting slowly, slowly away from the present.

___

Kuroo had told him the whole story of what had happened after they got back from the bar, and Kenma had never been so horrified in his entire life.

Not only had he gotten so drunk that he had gotten sick as soon as getting home, _and almost having a complete black out to boot,_ he had then tried to make out with Kuroo. Right there in the front hall.

_No, not make out, I almost forced him to fuck me!_ He thought in despair. He couldn’t believe it. The one time he gets drunk off his ass, his subconscious decided to take the lead for once and make his deepest wants and desires known.

He had gone so red he could have rivaled a boiled lobster. Even the backs of his hands, as they covered his eyes, were red. He was certain steam could have been coming out of his ears too, making the comparison between him and a steamed crustacean pretty much complete.

Kuroo chuckled lightly before reaching his hands out and settling them on Kenma’s waist. They were still kneeling in the doorframe, Kenma realized only when Kuroo shuffled his knees forward until they effectively caged his in. Bands of heat flared long the sides of his thighs where Kuroo’s brushed and pressed into his.

He felt his hips tilt forward as Kuroo pulled him into another languid kiss. His hands trailed up to fist gently at Kuroo’s shirt in the space between his shoulder and his pecs. His fingers fluttered against the sharp outlines of Kuroo’s collarbones and wondered how the man would react if he nibbled on them.

The small flame that had built behind his heart was flaring out, bleeding down into his stomach and lower into his hips and …

Kenma felt a moan unexpectedly vibrate through his throat as Kuroo’s tongue peeked out and traced the seam of his lips. The tip just pushing between the thin flesh enough to give Kenma an idea of what Kuroo wanted.

He wanted inside.

He wanted to be inside Kenma’s mouth. He wanted to part his lips and thrust his tongue between them. Tasting and feeling each and every bump and surface of his mouth. Kenma felt his cock come to life as all the muscles in his groin tightened up and released in heavy pulses. He wanted Kuroo in his mouth too, and not just his tongue.

His lips parted as he felt pressure on the seam once again, savoring the warm, wet slide of Kuroo’s tongue between his lips as Kuroo licked into his mouth. His hands slid up and around Kuroo’s neck until he could grab his own biceps, popping him off his knees and pressing their chests together.

Kuroo’s hands left his hips and had traveled behind him, his fingers inching closer and closer to resting on his ass. He pushed his hips back slightly, encouraging him to keep going. Not only the tongue exploring his mouth, but also urging the hands to keep going.

Thankfully, Kuroo seemed to take the hint and molded his palms to Kenma’s cheeks. He kneaded the soft flesh between his fingers and palms as he rolled the mounds up and down. Kenma’s cock, now strained and weeping, aching to be used, give small jumps each time Kuroo squeezed at his ass. His fingers moved sneakily closer and closer to the seam on his pants that ran directly between his cheeks.

Realizing where Kuroo was focusing his hands, Kenma’s eyes shot open and he attempted to breathe. The intake of breath had to be through his nose though, because his mouth was otherwise occupied and he wouldn’t have stopped kissing Kuroo for anything.

Kenma had been content to allow Kuroo to explore his mouth and to just let him do what he wanted, but his body was on fire and he wanted to see Kuroo become as crazy as he was.

Tentatively, he pushed his own tongue past Kuroo’s and started to explore his captain’s mouth in return. Curling his tongue around Kuroo’s as it penetrated and retreated between his lips. He traced the groove the ran along the roof of Kuroo’s mouth, letting the tip of his tongue slide into the little valley and along the wave like ridges that speared out from it, before licking the minty backside of Kuroo’s teeth.

A deep moan bubbled up from Kuroo’s throat and into his mouth, which, as it shuddered around Kenma’s tongue, was highly suggestive of deep, vibrating moans around another organ he had that really, _really_ wanted Kuroo’s mouth on it.

Kenma remembered something from a long time ago, back when he and Hinata had been wondering how they were going to convince the men they loved that they were not only dating prospects, but also potential lovers. He pulled his tongue back in his mouth sucked Kuroo’s bottom lip between his teeth and bit down on the sensitive flesh with enough force to have Kuroo gasping his name. He released Kuroo’s possibly bruised lip and laved his tongue over it to soothe the pain.

“Wh-where did you learn to do that?” Kuroo gasped as he drove his tongue back into Kenma’s mouth. He pulled on Kenma’s hips, roughly prying his thighs apart so that they now rested outside Kuroo’s legs and pulled him down to straddle his thighs, their cores flush against each other.

As Kuroo’s hips pushed forward, Kenma could feel the thick, hard outline of Kuroo’s cock glide against his own. The combined sensation of loose boxers and sweatpants allowed for as much freedom of movement as being clothed would allow. He threw his head back, disengaging the lip lock he had with Kuroo and sucked in harsh breath after harsh breath as he started to grind his hips down onto Kuroo, chasing that delicious friction.

“W-well I know that Hinata liked it when I did that, so I thought maybe you would too.”

The air went still as Kuroo stopping thrusting his hips upwards to meet Kenma’s sharp ruts. Kenma peered down along his nose at the man beneath him, all pink cheeks, panting breaths and dark, demanding eyes.

“When did you kiss the sunshine child.” Not a question, a demand. Typically, Kenma never denied Kuroo anything, but the way he was demanding an answer to something Kenma had no intention of feeling guilty for, was rubbing him the wrong way.

“It was a long time ago, it doesn’t matter anymore. And drop the macho attitude.” Kenma wiggled so that he was no longer in Kuroo lap and wiped the back of his hand across his lips, cleaning up the pool of saliva that had gathered at the edges of his mouth.

Kuroo sprang forward and scooped Kenma up into his arms, despite his protests, and walked them both backwards before he roughly dropped him on the bed. Kenma barely had time to comprehend what was happening before Kuroo blanketed his body again, his lips sucking at the skin on his neck instead of his own lips.

“It does matter,” Kuroo growled against Kenma’s pulse point, biting down and sucking hard enough that Kenma emitted a noise somewhere between a moan and a yelp and felt his mind fuzz out. Kuroo’s hands were everywhere. One tunneling under his shirt to swipe over and tweak his nipples while the other palmed his erection over the fabric of his sweats. He moaned so loud and clung to Kuroo’s back to tightly that he almost didn’t hear Kuroo’s statement he quietly tacked on at the end. “It matters, because you are _mine!_ ”

And … there’s the brakes.

Kenma pushed at Kuroo’s shoulders with all the strength he had in his tiny body, shoving the heavier man off of him so hard that he stumbled backwards, tripped off the end of the bed and ass-planted on the white carpet. Kuroo looked bewildered as he stared up at him from the floor. The jostling movement seeming to have brought him back to reality.

“Let’s get one thing straight, right _fucking_ now!” Kenma panted, trying to slow his beating heart and calm his breathing so that he sounded more confident. More like someone giving a speech at a convention and less like a 20-year old boy who was being touched for the first time by the man he loved. All panting breaths, blushing skin, and a weeping, throbbing cock.

Kuroo seemed to finally get a hold of himself and shuffled into a cross-legged position on the floor, his hands attempting to hide the poignant tent at the front of his sweats. _Not helping, I can still see it!_  His forehead relaxed as the muscles around his eyes and mouth softened. There was the Kuroo he knew. The one who was always in control. The who didn’t let emotion rule his actions, but logic.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” Kuroo said meekly as he hung his head. “I’ve, I’ve just wanted you for so long and now that I’ve had a taste of you, I want more. I want all of you.”

“And you can have me, Kuroo.” Surprisingly, his voice didn’t waver at the out-of-character statement. _Woot, keep it up._ The man’s head snapped up at Kenma’s bold statement, his throat working hard as his Adam’s apple bobbed along the lightly tanned column between his head and shoulders.

“But… but I want you to understand. I don’t belong to anyone. I only belong to myself. As much as I want you, and you say you want me, I will never be a possession that you can own.” He held up his hand as Kuroo opened his mouth in what was more than likely an argument.

“Let me finish. I’m not saying that I don’t want you, _God,_ I want you more than air in my lungs. But, I need you to understand. I have wanted you for so long, and now it seems that I might get what I’ve always wanted. And, if I give you everything I have and am and you leave me,” again he shushed Kuroo with his hands when he shot to his feet and to the end of the bed, “ _IF_ you left me now, I wouldn’t have anything left. My soul would cease to exist and disintegrate into nothingness. My body would fail because there was no soul to occupy the shell. I would not be able to live, Kuroo.”

Tears were streaming down his cheeks, as he confessed his deepest fears. That if Kuroo had ever wanted him, and then taken it back after he had had him? If he had given Kuroo everything he was and had, only to have his heart broken and ground into the dirt? He buried his forehead into Kuroo’s stomach and fisted his hands at Kuroo’s hips.

He wouldn’t be able to go on. Every dream and want being fulfilled and crushed in probably the span of a single day, would be more than he could bear. His heart and soul would shrivel and die, and his body would follow soon behind them. Becoming one with the dust, floating away on the breeze.

“That’s why, I need to be able to hold onto something. Something that is mine. Something that nobody can take away from me, not even you. If you do decide to leave me, and that this is not what you originally thought you wanted, if I at least can lay claim to myself, then I’ll be able to pick myself back up and keep living. Even if you aren’t a part of my life after that. Do you get it?”

He was afraid to look up and see exactly what he was afraid of seeing. Kuroo realizing that he came with too much baggage and that he didn’t to deal with the kind of emotional shit-fest he had going on in his head.

But, when he felt firm, calloused fingers grip the sides of his chin and jaw, he was forced to look whether he wanted to or not. Kuroo dropped to his knees in front of him so that they were at eye level with each other, and gently brushed some of his new choppy, black hair off his forehead.

“What makes you think that I would be any better?” Kuroo sniffed hard, _is he crying?_ he wondered as Kuroo continues to pet different places on his head, running his fingers through his hair and down his neck.

“I have wanted you for as long as I can remember. To be able to ask you out on dates at restaurants. To be able to hold your hand when we go to the movies. To be able to show you off to my friends and family as my _boyfriend_ not just as my best friend.” Kuroo leaned forward and kissed him gently on his forehead, the meaning behind it reverent and solemn, vastly f=different from before.

“And then, when we came home,” Kuroo pulled back only slightly and angling instead over Kenma’s eye, “I could hold you in my arms.” He placed a kiss directly over Kenma’s right eye lid, his lips warm on the thin skin.

“And tell you how beautiful you are.” Another kiss to the opposite lid. “And then I could take you in my arms and carry you to _our_ bedroom,” A single kiss to the tip of his nose. “I would lay you down and get you naked under me.” Tilting Kenma’s head back, Kuroo placed a kiss to both of the pulse points on the side of his neck. One side pristine and unmarred, the other already marked from earlier with a large, bright purple hickey.

“And then,” Kenma opened his eyes when Kuroo paused and looked right into the face of the man he loved. “Then I would make love to you all night, showing you just exactly how much I love you. Tracing your whole body with my fingers and my lips. Tasting every part of you with my tongue.” Kenma shuddered visibly at the images rolling through his brain like thunder. Loud, unchecked, terrifying and yet calming.

“But, as much as I want that, and believe me I am willing to give you everything that I am, if you are not ready to yet, I can wait. As long as you need me to. We can go slow and take our time. I will convince you with my words and actions that I’m not going to leave you. I haven’t wanted anything this bad since I discovered volleyball, and I am _not_ going to lose or give this up, now that I have it.” Kuroo leaned in until their foreheads were pressed together, breathing slow and deep, making sure each of his words had impact.

“I love you Kenma. And I’m not going to leave you. _EVER_. I know that’s hard to believe because I’ve never had a girlfriend for longer than a few months and this is so, so new for us, but please believe me. Let me prove it to you, kitten.” He felt Kuroo lean in, so close to his lips being on his and yet so far, as he just waited, hovering an inch away from Kenma’s mouth.

It was just like with the song. Kuroo was there, all heart on his sleeve and baring his soul to Kenma, but he wasn’t going to take without asking. Kenma gently angled his head and laid his lips on Kuroo’s. A gentle, unhurried kiss, that was heavy with each boy’s meaning and desire for the other threaded between them.

Kuroo pulled back before things could get too heavy again, “I’m giving you my everything Kenma, to do with as you please. To love me or to leave me, do what you wish. I’m just happy that you are even giving me a chance.” Kuroo circled his arms around Kenma’s torso and pulled him back into his lap as he sat on the bed. “And when you are ready, if you ever are, I hope you feel confident enough to entrust yourself to me. To let me take care of you too, like I know you will take care of me.”

Kenma reached a hand up and cupped the side of Kuroo’s jaw, the stubble once again pricking his palm. Leaning in, he pressed his own kisses to Kuroo’s eyes, nose, and throat. Somewhere in the back of his mind, this felt like a contract. An unspoken vow that they were conveying to the other. A promise that no one would be able to break.

“Okay, Kuroo. Okay. I can live with that.” A smile, brighter than even Hinata could manage, spread across Kuroo’s face, crinkling the sides of Kuroo’s eyes and almost splitting his face in half. “But, just answer me one thing.”

“Anything. Absolutely anything kitten!”

“When, and why, did you start calling me kitten?” Kuroo’s smile faltered fast, his cheeks turning scarlet as a hand scratched at the back of his head.

“W-well, it just kinda slipped out last night, and today I guess. It’s the name I gave you when I’m thinking about you.” Kuroo’s eyes were darting all over the room, avoiding looking him directly in the eye for more than a millisecond.

“Thinking about me when?” Kenma was pretty sure he knew where this was going, and he knew he should be embarrassed, but some part of him demanded that he know the reason. Now.

“Come on Kenma!” Kuroo grumbled, “Don’t make me say it.”

“Tell me.” With more confidence than he had ever felt in his life, he gripped Kuroo’s chin and made him look him in the eye. “Tell me when you call me kitten.”

Kuroo sucked in a harsh breath, his eyes rolling back in his head as being slightly dominated by the small, usually disinterested Kenma. _Oh, I like this. I’m going to have to remember this in the future._

“I call you kitten,” Kuroo swallowed hard, “when, when I masturbate. I think about you, always have. You were my every fantasy.”

Kenma blushed from the tips of his ears all the way down to his toes. He knew Kuroo was going to say something along those lines. But imagining it and actually hearing it confirmed were two different things.  

Burying his face in Kuroo’s neck, he huffed lightly and felt Kuroo’s rumbling laughter in his own chest.

“Well, you _asked!_ ”

___

“KENMA!!!”

He was brought back to the present by a loud screeching from across the table. He must have really been out of it if someone was yelling to get his attention. He focused ahead of him over the top of his PSP and spied Hinata’s orange mop and Kageyama’s perpetual scowl.

As he snapped his PSP closed, _shit I forgot to save,_ he grimaced at his own stupidity. It wasn’t like he couldn’t just restart from his last save point, but he hated having to replay something he had just spend an hour doing. Especially if it was a boss battle or if he had just gotten to level up.

“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry we’re late,” Kenma glanced at his watch. _Oh,_ it was in fact 32 minutes after their supposed meet up time. “We were looking for your blonde hair, but um, I guess you don’t have it anymore.” Hinata looked slightly wary, like he didn’t know if pointing out his hair was a good change or bad.

Kenma ran a hand through his new haircut, realizing once again that he looked vastly different than yesterday when Hinata saw him last.

Kuroo had gotten a hold of Yamamoto and had him come over with his styling kit. Yamamoto had almost fallen over he was laughing so hard when he saw Kenma. But, Kenma didn’t care. He had Kuroo, _finally,_ nothing could put a damper on his mood. Not even a haircut that looked like a toddler, who had just discovered what scissors did for the first time, could have given him.

Once Yamamoto had regained his composure, he had ushered Kenma into the bathroom and shut Kuroo out.

“So, why the hack job?” He had questioned, as he sprayed down the butchered locks with a spray bottle full of water..

“I needed a change.” He replied bluntly.

“And did you get the change you were looking for?” Running a comb through the jet-black strands, he leaned forward to stare at Kenma through the mirror.

Kenma felt a small smile pull at the edges of his mouth as his eyes drifted down to stare at his fingernails. “Yeah, I did.”

Yamamoto paused in his ministrations on Kenma’s head, and when he looked up to meet Yamamoto’s gaze once again, a wide, knowing smile was spread across his face.

“That’s great, Kenma-san! I’m really happy for you.” Stepping forward, Yamamoto had grabbed his styling apron and tied it around his waist with a flourish before grabbing a pair of scissors and twirling them in an arc around his index finger.

“Now, let’s get you all prettied up for your new boyfriend, _Kuroo-san_ , shall we?” Excitedly snipping the shears together, Yamamoto proceeded to give him a sharp, modern, longer-on-the-top, undercut before releasing him to the mercy of Kuroo and scampering out of the dorm as fast as he could.

Needless to say, his perfectly styled and coiffed hair did not stay that way for long.

The sides of his head were cold, the buzzed side panels of his head now that they no longer had their typical wind cover. The long strands tickled at the edges of his eyebrows and the tips of his ears.

“It’s okay, it was a good change.” Kenma sighed as he sipped at his frothy beverage once again.

“ _Whew,_ okay good. I didn’t know if it was a good thing or not. But, YAY!” Hinata pumped a fist in the air before Kageyama could catch him.

“ _Baka_ , calm down. It’s just hair.” Kageyama growled as he forced Hinata to sit calmly in his chair.

“Hey, Kenma rarely even changes the types of clothes he wears, this is HUGE!” Kenma shuffled in his chair. While this was true, it was still unnerving to be in the spotlight. Even if it was only for Hinata and Kageyama.

“A-anyway, you said you had something to tell me when you called earlier?” Kenma questioned, trying to direct the conversation away from himself. This instantly calmed the middle blocker down, while somehow at the same time hyped him up again.

He was more excited than Kenma had ever seen him, and he had been present when Karasuno’s boys’ volleyball team had won nationals back when the small ball of sunshine was a first year. “I, well _WE_ , have something to tell you.”

Hinata kept glancing between him and Kageyama, almost as if he was asking permission to tell Kenma whatever it was he wanted to tell him.

“Just tell him dumbass.” Kageyama huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, slouching back further into his chair as his cheeks went the slightest shade of pink.

“Hey, I’m not a dumbass, you turd! I’m just really excited!” Hinata crowed at his boyfriend. Kenma watched the two bicker back and forth for a minute before the smell of cooked apples and cinnamon filled his nose as heat bloomed under his chin.

Glancing down, he saw a small white plate with a perfect piece of apple pie in the center of it and a petite white dollop of whipped cream dotted the center, a small scoop of vanilla bean ice cream off to the side. Smiling gently, he glanced beside him as the chair was pulled out and Kuroo settled into it. Kuroo scooted his chair over until their thighs were pressed against each other, flush from knee to hip. The tall man settling one arm across the back of Kenma’s chair as he crossed one knee over the other.

“Here you go, kitten. Enjoy.” Kuroo held out a fork for him as he mumbled a thank you and dug in. As the fruity, warm flavor burst on his tongue, he realized that his friends were no longer fighting. Looking up, they were actually looking at him and Kuroo with rapt fascination.

“Um, maybe you have news too?” Hinata asked apprehensively. Oh yeah, he had news too.

“We’re dating.” Kuroo said proudly, as his arm left the back of Kenma’s chair to circle around his hip and pull him into the side of his body.

The only warning they had was an inhuman screech before Hinata vaulted across the table and swallowed Kenma in a full body hug.

“OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!!! Kenma! I’m so happy for you!” Thankfully, Kenma hadn’t yet taken another bite before Hinata had launched himself at him. So, at least he wasn’t choking. But it was still hard to breath because of the vice grip Hinata had on his neck. Air rushed into his lungs as Hinata was pulled off him by his very put off looking boyfriend.

“Shoyo, seriously! Calm the hell down!” Kageyama practically screamed at Hinata. But the boy didn’t seem to mind at all.

“I can’t! I’m just, I’m just so, _SO_ happy for them! Now listen up you!” Instantly, Hinata bright, infectious happiness morphed into, what Kenma assumed, was what the sea looked like in the middle of a storm. Dark, swirling, dangerous. “Kenma is the sweetest, kindest, more supportive soul I know and he has only been looking at you since, like forever. So, if you fuck this up and cause him pain…” He paused, probably for dramatic effect.

“I will personally make you pay with your kneecaps. Got it.” Not a question, a threatening promise. Kenma could have told Hinata he could take care of himself, but it was nice to have someone else stand up for him instead of the other way around.

“Don’t worry,” Kuroo said with his typical bravado, “I’ve wanted him for just as long. I’m not going to mess this up, I promise. But one thing,” He leaned forward so as to make his point known. _Crap,_ Kenma knew where this was going.

“There will be no more _KISSING_ between you two, got it?” Kuroo had phrased it in the form of a question, but his meaning held the same threat that Hinata’s statement had.

“Wait, _WHAT?!”_ Kageyama exploded. “When did you kiss Kenma-san? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Good Lord, Tobio,” Hinata waved a hand absentmindedly in front of his face, “It was before we got together. I didn’t want to seem like an absolute virgin who hadn’t even kissed anyone before I tried it with you. I really liked you and wanted to have at least some kind of experience to fall back on.”

Kageyama huffed loudly as he slumped back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest as storm clouds rumbled behind his eyes. He probably wasn’t actually mad that Shoyo and he had kissed, he was just more put off by the fact that he hadn’t known about it until now. 

“Any more secrets? Cause I can take back that ring if there are?” Kageyama muttered under his breath.

“Don’t you dare, you shit! You gave it to me already, no takesies-backsies!” Hinata flopped over onto his boyfriend’s chest and wrapped him in a tight hug. “You’re stuck with me forever, loser!”

That’s when Kenma noticed a small, golden light reflect off of Hinata’s left hand as it was clasped around Kageyama’s neck.

“Hinata? Is that…?” gesturing to Hinata’s hand with his chin. Hinata glanced at his left hand and promptly dropped his boyfriend. _No, I guess it’s fiancé now._

“Oh Yeah! We’re ENGAGED!” Hinata thrust his hand forward so it sat under Kenma’s nose and he had to back his head up in order to be able to focus clearly.

A simple gold band sat nestled around Hinata’s left ring finger, separating his palm from the digit perfectly. Kenma took Hinata’s hand gently and inspected the new ornament. The surface had been buffed to a mirror like patina and was of about medium thickness. Not princess thin, but not macho thick either. It complemented his tiny, calloused hands perfectly.

“ _GWAH!_ I almost forgot to show you the best part!” Snatching his hand back, Hinata wriggled the band off his finger and held it back out for Kenma to inspect. “Look at the inside!”

Tilting the ring so that the light caught the inside surface, he rotated it around until a set of numbers and a symbol flashed against the light.

_9 … + …10 … = … <3_

“What does less than three mean?” Kenma looked at the pair quizzically. Both boy’s jaws fell open as they stared at him in disbelief.

“Kitten, less than three looks like a sideways heart. Here,” Kuroo held out his hand and gestured for him to give Kuroo his hand. Pulling out a pen from his back pocket, Kuroo clicked it open and began to draw the same symbol on the back of Kenma’s hand in bright blue ink. “Now, tilt your hand up.”

_Well, what do you know, it is a heart._

“Aww, Look Iwa-chan! It looks like Kuroo-chan finally followed his own advice.” Kenma felt Kuroo tense up beside him as they pivoted around, seeing Oikawa and Iwaizumi standing just behind them.

“Well, based on your neck Oikawa, it looks like you did too.” Kuroo hissed through clenched teeth. However, the comment didn’t seem to bother Oikawa in the slightest, as he threw an arm around Iwaizumi’s waist and purposefully ran a hand over the multitude of hickeys on his neck. Seeming to revel in the fact that they were there in the first place.  

“Of course we did, Kenma-chan had gotten us all worked up so we were able to express our true feelings when we got home.” He nuzzled up to Iwaizumi, burying his nose in the side of his neck.

“Get off, _shittykawa,_ we are in public now. Don’t you have any shame?” Iwaizumi pushed hard at Oikawa’s shoulder, effectively dislodging the man who was sticking to him like velcro.

“ _MEAN_ , Iwa-chan!” Oikawa pouted, but then relaxed as he saw the small blush that was dusting Iwaizumi’s cheeks. Shifting back to face the group, Oikawa announced, “Actually, since it was all thanks to Kenma-chan, I think he deserves a better kiss than the one he got other night.”

Oikawa leaned forward, reaching out a hand to cup the side of his face. But before Kenma could pull back, Kuroo had wrapped him up and placed him in his lap. Cocooning Kenma’s body within the confines of his own.

“How about you don’t try to kiss my _boyfriend_ ever again, and I don’t have to give you another black eye.” Kenma’s hands gripped into Kuroo’s forearms as they banded around his chest.

_Boyfriend. Squee! Okay, calm the fuck down._

“Easy, boy. Down!” Oikawa jeered at Kuroo. “I was just teasing, I’ve got the one I want anyway, so you can have yours.” Chuckling, Oikawa reached forward to wrap his fingers around Iwaizumi’s hand, intertwining their fingers together. This time however, he didn’t push Oikawa away. He just allowed him to do as he pleased. This minimal form of PDA seeming to be within the acceptable limits for Iwaizumi.

“Well, we’re gonna bounce and go play with some balls.” Oikawa purred, pulling Iwaizumi along behind him. “Toodles!” he called, as he waggled the tips of his fingers at the group.

“God, _assy-kawa_ , stop using double entendres! We are just going to volleyball practice and you know it.” Iwaizumi huffed loudly.

“Well what are you gonna do about it? Are you gonna punish me for being bad then?” Oikawa waggled his eye brows at Iwaizumi and rubbed his chest against the man’s muscular bicep. Iwaizumi’s palm smacked against the back of Oikawa’s head and he immediately released Oikawa’s hand before he stalked off, leaving Oikawa rubbing the back of his head.

“ _Haaa_ , I love that man.” Oikawa chuckled under his breath before jogging to catch up with him. Stopping halfway to the door, Oikawa pivoted around and looked pointedly at Kuroo.

“Oh and by the way, Nowaki is a cousin of mine. Did you by chance tell Kenma-chan how you got _your_ black eye?” Oikawa scampered out after Iwaizumi before he could get an answer out of either of them.

Shifting in Kuroo laps, purposefully avoiding the warmth against his ass, Kenma looked up at Kuroo. He had completely forgotten about the bruise forming around Kuroo’s eye, mainly because it was under the constant flop of hair over his right eye.

“How _did_ you get that Kuro?” he questioned, quirking his head to the side. Kuroo refused to meet his eyes as a bright red blush creeped onto his cheeks in up into his hairline.

_Whoa, this is gonna be big._

“Hey, why don’t you guys go get some food and come back.” Kuroo whispered to the other couple across the table.

“OH! Yeah, okay. No problem!” Hinata squawked, shooting up so fast from his chair it tumbled to the ground with a loud metallic clank. Grasping Kageyama’s arm and hauling him to his feet, they rushed off towards the counter to order some lunch.

Pushing forward in Kuroo’s lap, Kenma straddled either side of his thighs, draping his legs over Kuroo’s hips and the bench seat of the half booth/ half table they had taken up residence at. He brushed back Kuroo’s bedhead and inspected the bright purple and blue bruise that had pooled around his eye.

“Come on, it’s can’t be that bad.” Kenma prodded. He watched Kuroo’s eyes shut and he exhaled long and slow.

“Okay, just, just try to understand where I was coming from.” Kenma remained silent, urging Kuroo to continue silently. “Well, you know that I slept with Nowaki on Friday, right?”

“I could have done without the explicit reminder, thank you.” Kenma huffed. He understood, Kuroo had explained the situation to him yesterday, but it still made him uncomfortable.

“Sorry, sorry, I know. Just bear with me.” He placated noisily, running his hands along the back of Kenma’s arms and across his shoulder and back, attempting to calm him. “Well, one of the reason I was originally drawn to Nowaki was because, well, because he reminded me of you.”

Kenma just cocked his head at Kuroo, his new mop of hair falling to the other side of his head. He really wasn’t following this line of conversation.

“But, I’m rooming with you. Why did you need another me?” Okay, this was starting to hurt.

“Okay, I had my suspicions that Nowaki was gay, and you know, it was nice to get some attention from someone who at least kinda looked like the person that I was in love with. Especially since I though, at least at the time, that you were never going to look at me like that.” Kuroo sucked in a harsh breath and buried his head in Kenma’s chest.

Groaning loudly, which was muffled by Kenma’s Legend of Zelda hoodie, Kuroo mumbled a string of syllables that bled together against his chest.

“What?” Kenma reached into Kuroo’s hair to pull him off his chest so he could hear him properly. “What did you say?”

“ _UGH!_ Because Nowaki looked so much like you I called out your name when we were having sex!”   

Kenma could have heard a pin drop in their small corner of the café. Kuroo’s eyes were still wrenched shut as he hung his head. He could feel his heart hammering away in his chest, as it swelled with emotion. _Kuroo is way too fucking cute._ Kenma bent down and pressed his lips to the side of Kuroo’s jaw line, which blew Kuroo’s eyes wide open.

“It’s okay Kuroo, don’t feel embarrassed. I’ve said your name while masturbating more times than I can count. So, even thought it was with another person, It honestly wasn’t that different, right?” Kenma chuckled as he felt his face heat up at the confession, but if Kuroo was going to be honest with him, he might as well put them on as even footing as he could manage.

“I told you we came back to early, Hinata-boke!” Kenma pulled back from Kuroo with lightening speed. _When did they get back?!_

“Shut up, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop!” Hinata turned to the couple, “I swear! It’s just, our food was ready and I’m really hungry…” Hinata pouted.

“It’s okay, Shoyo.” Kenma chuckled, “just sit down and eat.”

Pulling his PSP out and flicking it on, he realized that by some miracle, it hadn’t shut down completely and it was still where he had left it in the game. Snuggling deeper into Kuroo’s lap, he noticed the strong parallel to what had just happened. A bombshell was dropped, but it didn’t change the situation.

In fact, it made it better, as a small burst of pride bloomed in his chest that Kuroo was so in love with him he forgot other people names when he orgasmed. Smiling to himself as Kuroo’s arms settled back around his lower back, his fingers tracing obscure designs over his sweater, he thought to himself, _this is what heaven must be like._

He was happy. Kuroo was happy. Hinata was happy for him. Even Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Kageyama seemed to be happy for them in their own ways. Life was perfect, and nothing could stand in their way.

“So, Hinata, Kageyama, how did you parents react to you guys going out in the first place?” Kenma glanced up at Kuroo as the game twiddled out a merry tune. “I kinda want to be prepared for what we might have to go through.”


	20. Something In Your Mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty guys, this chapter gets rather explicit and honestly, if you want to skip it, you won't miss much of the story. The next chapter gets back to major plot development. 
> 
> Once again, I cannot thank you all enough for sticking with this story so far! I have loved writing it and watching these boys develop. For those who are wondering, after this chapter there are only about 3 more chapters left!!!!
> 
> Please enjoy and let me know what ya'll think. Oh, and that Asanoya oneshot is still in the works. Hopefully it will go up sometime this upcoming week!!!!

Chapter 18 –

This was a bad idea. It was too soon. Maybe they should wait another week. Another month. Maybe another year would be enough.

But, he wanted to do right by Kenma. He wanted to make this relationship work and prove to him that he, Kuroo Tetsuro, was worthy to stand by his side. But, he knew that if they went through with this, it was going to end in a clusterfuck of emotions that he didn’t know if he was ready to experience.

Kuroo smiled to himself as he swept a trembling hand through the mess on top of his head once more and tried to tame his unruly locks, make them behave for once in their lives. So far, they had only gotten around to telling their friends that they were dating and thankfully, there had been no reticence or negative reactions to be had.

Kenma was his _boyfriend_. They were dating. He could go and hold his hand for no other reason than to feel the weight and warmth of Kenma’s smaller hand in his own. He could wrap him in his arms and feel his smaller body curl into his own, wriggling his way even deeper into his heart than he already was.

If he had thought his heart belonged to the small, feline-esq man before they had started dating, Kenma now held the key to not only his heart, but everything he was. He had the ability to break Kuroo down to nothing or to build him up higher than he had ever been with just the flick of his wrist.

He shook out his hand to dislodge a few stray hairs that clung to his fingers when he had pushed his hand through his hair. He looked up in the bathroom mirror and took in everything. His hair was still untamable and messy, but it was his norm. He didn’t have any pimples, _Thank God,_ and peeling his lips off his teeth, no interlopers were visible between the white bones. He adjusted the hem of his crisp, white, button down shirt and untucked and retucked it into his black slacks, not knowing which would look better. He raised his arms to make sure he didn’t have any stains, even though he had just put the shirt on less than five minutes ago. _No pit stains, check._

As he lowered his arms, he got a whiff of the Old Spice Swagger deodorant he has swiped under his arms as it mixed with the musky, leathery notes of Tim McGraw’s Soul to Soul cologne he had spritzed across his chest and neck. He hadn’t used it yet, so he hadn’t known how much to put on.   _Shit! Did I use too much?!_

As if his unmanageable hair and poor personality weren’t already going to make this situation unbearable, now he was going to smell on top of that!

“Kuro, we gotta go.” Kenma’s voice slipped under the door and coated his nerve endings, soothing the raw edges he had created. He puffed out a sigh as he snapped the hand towel from the rung it hung on next to the sink. He passed the fluffy white fabric over his neck and down into the “V” shaped opening at the top of his shirt where the top two buttons were undone, trying to soak up at least a little bit of the scent.

As he replaced the towel on the rung, Kuroo left the small room and went to find Kenma, who was seated on their couch, laptop on his legs that were crossed under himself. Kuroo leaned over Kenma’s shoulder, his hands gripping lightly at the boy’s shoulders as he massaged them gently, he noticed that he had a game pulled up on the screen. The human -looking characters flitting across the screen, performing mundane tasks.

“What cha playing? I thought we had to go?” Kuroo teased, making sure his breath tickled at the shell of Kenma’s ear. Kenma shivered lightly at the sensation, which filled Kuroo with so much pride that he had been able to figure out so fast what buttons to push to make Kenma agree to anything he asked.

“Taking a break. I can’t think of an idea for my project.” Kenma’s project idea had been due the Monday after they had gotten together. But, they had spent most of the next day, and week, just exploring the new mutuality of their feelings, all soft kisses and gentle touches, cuddling on the couch and being glued at the hip.  

However, this had made it difficult for Kenma to think of an idea for his project that he was supposed to spend the rest of his time in school on. He had asked his professor for an extension, which was begrudgingly given. And Kenma HAD been able to come up with an idea, a combination style game between Tamagotchi and Pokémon that was compatible with cell phones, but he was overall vastly dissatisfied with the idea.

As Kuroo glanced back at the screen, he noticed two men walking around in a small kitchen that vaguely resembled theirs. One character was taller and had crazy, black hair, while the other was smaller and had longer, blonde hair.

“Is that us?” Kuroo asked, his voice heavy with fascination. He hoped it was. Kenma fidgeted under his hands, but continued to play the game. Making the taller character read a book from the bookshelf to improve his intelligence, while the blonde character played video games on the computer.

Oh yeah, it was definitely them. But a small part of Kuroo’s brain really wanted to hear Kenma say out loud that he had made them into a family. Sharing a stove, an entertainment room, a pool in the backyard. Sharing a bedroom. Leaning forward so that his arms wrapped around Kenma’s neck, his chest pressed into Kenma’s shoulders, effectively trapping the boy.

“Come on Kenma, tell me. Is that us?”

“Yes. Now get off me.” Kenma snapped.

Kuroo stilled. Had he done something wrong?

He and Kenma had slowly been getting closer and bolder over the past month since they had started dating. The gentle kisses became deeper and hotter. The tentative touches more inquisitive and demanding. Hands had left shoulders and tunneled under waistbands, mouths had left lips and traveled across chests and hips and cocks. They just hadn’t taken that last, final step yet.

They agreed that they wanted to wait until the time was right. They had both wanted this for so long, and they knew that if they wanted this to last, they couldn’t rush. So, what had he done in the last five minutes to have Kenma snap at him like that?

“What’s wrong?” Kuroo asked, pulling his head back slightly from Kenma’s neck.

“You’re a bastard sometimes you know?” Okay, now Kuroo was really confused. Yeah, he had been in the bathroom longer than he had planned, today was a big day though. It could possibly change the whole course of their relationship depending on how it turned out. But, did 5, _okay 20,_ extra minutes making sure he looked as good as he could really qualify him as a bastard?

Kuroo pulled back slowly, his arms dragging against Kenma’s shoulders. He didn’t know what he did wrong but he would do or say anything to make it right. He just didn’t want Kenma to be mad at him. However, before he could reach his full height, Kenma’s arms left the laptop and grabbed his arms, crushing him back to his body.

“I’m not mad. You just were taking forever, and I’m already nervous about today, so it made me more anxious.” He felt Kenma’s small hands clench around his wrists and re-cross them around his neck as he buried his face in the crooks of Kuroo’s elbows. _Why is his face so warm?_

“And, and then you come out, and I’m all ready to yell at you because I am really nervous, but then you smelled and looked like pure sex and it’s not fair.” He breathed a sigh of relief. Kenma wasn’t mad at him for taking too long. He was upset because he was apparently … too sexy. S _illy kitten._

Kuroo reached forward and closed the laptop and shuffled it off to the side of the couch, before returning his arms to snuggle into his little gamer kitten. He buried his nose into the side of Kenma’s neck, smelling the juicy, apple notes of his body wash and the light, earthy scent that was Kenma alone.

“You are such a dork, Kitten. What am I going to do with you?” He gently nuzzled along Kenma’s neck, feeling the boy sigh under his lips as the traveled up his throat and over the shell of his ear.

“Well, we are already late so we can’t _do_ anything now.” Kenma panted as he tilted his head back to give him better access to his throat.

“You underestimate me. What is my record for how fast I can get you off?  Forty-five seconds from the moment my wet, tight lips wrap around your hard, drooling cock?” He watched in fascination as Kenma’s hips punched forward at his words. He knew he was being an ass, and honestly, he had never been into dirty talk before.

But, the way that Kenma reacted to what he said could fuel him for days. The way his head would kick back as short, gasping breaths punching out of his lungs. How his hips jumped forward and quivered in the interim between the filthy statements that poured out of Kuroo’s mouth.

“Not-not the point. We really have to go.” One hand had released its death grip on Kuroo’s wrist and was traveling down Kenma’s chest. Heading straight for, what Kuroo knew from firsthand experience now, his _deliciously_ , beautiful cock.

“Well…” Kuroo crooned, “If that’s what you’re worried about, I guess I’ll just have to take your mind off the _time_ then.”

Without warning, Kuroo turned his face into Kenma’s neck and flubbed his lips and breath against the pale flesh. Kenma’s screeching laughter and the way he started to playfully beat his hands around Kuroo’s head and neck to push him off, informed him that his distraction was working.

As Kenma tried to wriggle free of his grasp, he fell onto his side on the couch which opened up the perfect opportunity for Kuroo to vault over the back of the sofa until he was laying on top of Kenma and could yank the boy’s shirt up to blow raspberries against the soft, supple flesh of his tummy.

Now that Kenma was on his back, writhing from side to side, his peeling laughter bouncing off the walls, he was able to add his legs into the fray. He struggled to get away from the zerbers Kuroo was blowing against his stomach, but was still able to be mindful enough not to knee his boyfriend in the eye, seeing as the last shiner he had had finally gone away completely about a week ago.

Kuroo pulled back, laughing as a little droplet of drool clung to his lips, before wiping it away with the back of his hand. As Kenma came down from his comedy high, he let out little chuffing noises, small fragments laughter bubbles getting caught in his throat. His face was bright pink from the effort of trying to get away from Kuroo’s mouthing, his chest heaving as it tried to drag air into his lungs.

_Shit, this was bad._ Kenma’s shirt had gotten pushed up around his upper chest, his pretty, rosy nipples playing peek-a-boo with the hem of it. His tummy was covered in a light sheen of spit and sweat, little bursts of pink speckling his skin from where he had blown against the soft flesh. His legs were splayed wide and open at the hips, allowing Kuroo to sit comfortably between them, pressed intimately against the boy’s warmth.

Kuroo reached out a hand and lightly drug his fingers up Kenma’s stomach, one finger taking the opportunity to flick across one overly sensitive nipple. The boy’s chest bowed off the couch, seeking his touch before flopping back down and glaring up at him.

“I told you,” he panted “we,we don’t have time for this.” But with the way Kenma had started grinding against his thighs, he knew he just had to push a little bit more and the boy would be putty in his hands.

“Come on kitten,” Kuroo purred as he leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to the soft flesh of Kenma’s stomach once again. It had taken Kuroo this entire time to get Kenma to begin to embrace the different body he had now compared to high school. Back then he was petite with small, yet evident layers of muscle. But, Kuroo enjoyed his form better now. His hips were fuller, his tummy softer, his ass plumper. All perfect handholds and mouthfuls that Kuroo _thoroughly_ enjoyed when he got to play with them. And he did so quite often. “We’re already late, ten more minutes won’t hurt.”

Kenma gasped and clutched at the edges of the couch as Kuroo began to tongue his navel. Swirling his tongue around the rim and pressing forward slightly, just enough to bring about sensation, but not enough to be uncomfortable. And since Kenma had just showered before him, he tasted like clean skin with a slight tang of soap. _Sweet, no lint._

As he slipped his tongue from Kenma’s belly button, his lips scorched down to the waist of his trousers, flicking the button open with one hand and pulling Kenma closer to his mouth with the other. Tugging the boy’s slacks down his petite legs, he pressed open mouthed kisses to the tender flesh on his thighs, knees, and finally his feet. For what he had in mind, Kenma would need his legs completely free of any obstruction.

As he made his way back up Kenma’s legs, the boy beneath him moaned and fidgeted against the couch. Which was made all the more pronounced by the time he got to the tent on the front of Kenma’s briefs.

Kuroo nuzzled at the hard length behind the cotton, a moan tumbling from his lips as he felt the damp, sticky patch pressed against the head of Kenma’ cock. If they wanted to get a move on though, he probably shouldn’t mouth an tease Kenma through his briefs for too long.

Glancing at his watch, he realized he wasn’t going to be able to take more time than this. He pulled back slightly from Kenma and hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of his tidy whitey briefs. How someone managed to look so sexy, when they should have looked like a mutant four-year-old, was totally beyond his comprehension.

He made sure to not pull the elastic around the head though, allowing him a small moment of intense satisfaction as Kenma’s cock got pulled almost all the way down with his briefs before springing back up and bouncing against his own stomach. Kuroo’s mouth watered as he saw a small snail trail form, the silky precum connecting the head of Kenma’s cock to where it had landed on his stomach.

He dipped his head and swiped a wide stripe up the underside of Kenma’s length, sending the boy into full body shivers, before taking him fully in his mouth and sucking at the silky flesh.

Kuroo’s senses were flooded with Kenma. The sounds he made deep in his throat as pleasure filled his small body. The taste of him, salty and a little bitter from the precum pooling against his tongue. The muskiness of his cock saturated his senses and drove him crazy. The way Kenma’s hips pulsed up to try and get further into the wet, tight, heat his mouth offered had his eyes rolling back in his head.

Kuroo inched down on Kenma’s cock, taking more and more of him into his mouth and throat. As he felt the length hit the back of his throat, Kenma’s hands speared into his hair as he attempted to hold Kuroo in place. He chuckled around the thick, heady flesh in his mouth before hoisting his boyfriend in the air and flipping him around. As he settled Kenma’s bare ass over his face, the boy tried to squirm away in protest.  

“No, Kuro! That’s a bit too-” But he wasn’t having any of it. He hooked his arms around the front of Kenma’s hips and hauled him back against his face, burying his nose and mouth against his boyfriend’s core. He opened his mouth and tongued at Kenma’s balls, rolling one then the other around his tongue and mouth before sucking one gently between his lips. “ _AH!”_ Kenma jolted to a sitting position at the sensation, which only aided Kuroo’s original plan. He dropped what was in his mouth with a wet pop, pushed Kenma forward so he leaned down along his chest.

“You know,” Kuroo mumbled against Kenma’s dick as he reached down and unzipped his own clacks, freeing his throbbing erection. “This will go a lot faster if you do it to.” He popped his hips up gently and brushed the side of his cock against Kenma’s smooth face, eliciting a throaty moan from the small man on top of him.

Small hands reached down and wrapped around his cock, pumping the flesh slowly and pressing small kisses to his sensitive head. He shuffled his chin down until he could take Kenma in his mouth again as started sucking in earnest, hollowing out his cheeks as the tip of his tongue played along the nerve sensitive ridge that cushioned the head.

Vibrations rumbled through Kuroo’s cock as Kenma moaned low in his throat and began to gently pump in and out of Kuroo’s mouth. He stilled momentarily and focused on his throat, releasing one side of Kenma’s hips to press against the back of the boys’ head to keep him in place. What he was about to do was going to be a shock.

He moved his vocal chords and Adam’s apple like he was getting ready to sing a second A below middle C, the bottom of his vocal range. The cartilage in his throat expanded and dragged down his trachea, opening up the back of his throat so he could fully swallow Kenma to the base. The curly, kinky black hairs tickled his nose as he pressed his lips against Kenma’s pubic bone.

It had been a good decision to keep Kenma’s head in place as he practically screamed around his cock, his hands scrambling against the couch for purchase. _Relax, breathe through your nose,_ he prompted himself as he willed his throat to stay open, pressing on Kenma’s ass with his other hand to urge him to keep thrusting deep into his throat.

He didn’t rush the small boy though. He had been practicing on taming his gag reflex so he could try deep throating the next time he wanted to give Kenma a blow job. But, from the few encounters he had had with the technique, he knew it could be mind blowing and overwhelming all at the same time. So, he knew Kenma was feeling it by the way his hips were twitching against his face, but he also knew it might be too much because he hadn’t gone back to sucking him too.

Gently, Kuroo began to push against Kenma’s hips to try and get him off his face. _Maybe it’s too much for him._ But his hands slipped around Kenma’s hips as Kenma pushed past his hands and brought his hips back down fully against Kuroo’s face, thrusting shallowly into his waiting mouth. Kuroo settled into the couch, trying to get as comfortable as he could as Kenma continued to work himself against Kuroo’s mouth and face. He pushed his own hips into the air, trying to convey to Kenma, ‘ _Hey, me too!’_

As Kenma’s lips sealed around the head of his cock and started to pump along the length of his shaft, he could tell he was getting close and if Kenma kept up the pace he was going to be done for in less than a minute. The pressure coiled tighter and tighter deep in his gut as sweat started to bloom across his skin. His hips jacked off the couch faster and more frenzied as he fucked up into Kenma’s mouth. The backs of his thighs began to over sensitize like a cold breeze was being blown across them, making his toes curl. He was so fucking close.

“kkmmmmaa….” Kuroo groaned against the flesh in his mouth as it repeatedly hit the back of his throat. He needed to warn Kenma; to have him pull off of he was going to orgasm into that perfectly tight, hot mouth. But all Kenma did was speed up the pace of his own hips and suck harder at Kuroo, swirling his tongue around the head before swiping rapid, shallow flicks through his slit.

Kuroo quickly pulled back enough so he could breathe and wrapped a hand around the base of Kenma’s cock. This allowed the boy to thrust as hard and as fast as he wanted but gave Kuroo enough room to breathe and not gag because he could only go as far as Kuroo’s fist would let him.

He dug his fingers into the soft, round flesh of Kenma’s ass, urging him faster as he orgasmed into Kenma’s mouth. He slammed his eyes shut as he felt his pulses of cum leave his balls and shoot out into the warm, waiting heat of Kenma’s throat. And, _God bless him!,_ he continued to suck, milking Kuroo through the entirety of his orgasm.

Kuroo’s head was swimming, his bones jellied and his mind blank. He was drained, physically and mentally. But he needed to make Kenma finish too. Not just because it was polite to reciprocate for someone who had just given you so much pleasure by trying to suck your soul out through your dick, but also because he loved making Kenma feel good. The look he got on his face when his body was flooded with so much pleasure that it broke apart, and all because of him, was an addictive ego trip that he was never going to get enough of.

The first time Kenma had orgasmed for Kuroo, he had cried, and Kuroo was terrified that he had hurt his small setter. But once Kenma had explained that it was because so many emotions were running through him and that it was the first time he had been pleasured by someone other than himself, he just couldn’t stop the tears. Kuroo felt his chest swell with so much pride and honor that he was afraid his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He had wrapped his arms around Kenma and cradled him to his big body, whispering words that he didn’t remember now, but he was certain they had helped because Kenma had eventually calmed down. And when he had pulled back to look up at Kuroo, it was as if the sun was shining out of his face, his smile had been so bright.

Kenma was still trying to get himself off, giving erratic, deep thrusts into Kuroo fist, but he decided it was Kenma’s turn to take a backseat and enjoy himself. He gathered his senses and pushed hard against Kenma’s hips, pushing him forward and popping his delectable ass in the air. With his ass laid out just for him, he was tempted to try something else he had been researching. But with the way Kenma squirmed in his lap, he thought, _enough surprises for one day,_ and flipped Kenma onto his back as he shuffled off the couch.

Before Kenma could ask what he was doing, he hauled the small man back against his face once again, swallowing as much of Kenma as he could. He pressed his one palm hard into Kenma’s hip to keep him on the couch as his other hand worked the bottom half of what he couldn’t fit in his mouth so that he could feel sensations over his entire length. His moans ratcheted up, the octave jumping into the tenor range and going from a tango to a tarantella in their tempo.

“Kuro, Kuro! _Yes!_ Kuro! More!” Kenma panted his name, over and over like a prayer. But, they had come so far and they were past polite names at this point. He pulled back with a lewd, wet smack.

“Say my _name!_ ” He growled before hollowly placing his mouth over Kenma’s cock and dragging the edges of teeth along the silky length, bumping over the sensitive ridge of his head. He felt small fingers spear into his hair and grip tightly, the pulling causing tiny pricks of pleasure-pain along his scalp.  

“Tet-Tetsur- _OH!_ ” Kuroo felt warm jets hit his tongue and he lapped at the salty fluid as it filled his mouth. He swallowed most of Kenma’s load down the back of his throat as Kenma jerked against his hold. He slowly slipped the boy from between his lips, lapping as the stringy dribbles of cum that had escaped his mouth and pooled around the base of Kenma’s spent dick.

Kuroo swiped a hand across his mouth, cleaning up anything that might still be left behind that his tongue missed and shuffled himself back into his pants.

“All better now, kitten? Not so horny anymore?” Kuroo chuckled as he held out a hand to help Kenma off the couch.

“I’m always horny when it comes to you, you giant idiot. But yes, I feel better now.” Kenma took Kuroo’s hand and Kuroo pulled him to a standing position. Kuroo pulled at the hem of his shirt, trying to fluff out all the new wrinkles that had formed in the crisp white fabric and checking for any _stainage_ before turning to help Kenma straighten out his own clothes.

“Oh, and look! We only used up about four minutes! We might still make it to dinner in a timely fashion!” He felt a small fist bump against his shoulder as Kenma punched him in response to his idiocy. He pushed a hand through his hair, hoping that is hadn’t gone into no-man’s-land territory and would end up being beyond repair even with gel and a comb, as a result of being pressed between Kenma’s sexy thighs. But honestly, he wouldn’t even care if he couldn’t fix it. He loved being with Kenma.

“I told you we were gonna be late and we didn’t have time for this.” Kenma replied simply as he walked over to the front door, picking up his PSP and apartment keys before shoving both in his pockets. “Now, come on. They’re gonna be upset as it is without us being later than we should be, and showing up with sex hair.”

And just like that, the anxiety returned. The bone deep fear that he was about to make a huge mistake, but he wasn’t going to be able to avoid it. Like looking into the headlights of an oncoming car and knowing there is nothing you can do to either stop the car or move out of its path before it collides with you and crushes you into nothing but bloody streaks and bone fragments on the asphalt.

Kuroo stared at his feet, willing them to move, to get this over with, but he was rooted to the spot. He wasn’t aware of Kenma coming up behind him until his arms were wrapped around his waist, his cheek pressed into the middle of his back.

“Kuro, it’s going to be fine. I’ll be right there with you. No matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere.” Kuroo hung his head and clung to the small arms around his waist like they were the only things keeping him grounded.

“Okay,” he croaked, before clearing his throat, “Okay, let’s do this.” He spun in Kenma’s arms, bringing the palms of his hands up to frame the small boy’s face and gently guided it up to meet his own.

There was something in Kenma’s kiss that Kuroo had never experienced before. A deep, bone melting warmth that seemed to wrap him in a cocoon of tenderness and security. It felt like coming home. And speaking of home …

“So, the couple in your game _was_ us? Which game were you playing?” There was no way he was letting that go.

“Sims 4. It’s a role-playing game. There’s no end goal and the gameplay is non-linear so you can have your characters do whatever you want them to.” Kenma huffed.

“What kind of stuff?” Kuroo was genuinely interested. Anything that involved him and Kenma piqued his interest.

“Anything. You can bake pies, star gaze, mow the lawn, read books or play computer games…” Kenma nuzzled his face further into his chest and mumbled a quiet, “…make babies.”

“Oh hoho? So, you’ve got babies on the brain do you?”

“Shut up.” He looked down to see the tips of Kenma’s ears turn bright red. Which was as much of a conformation as he had ever seen.

“So, gay characters can get all hot and steamy under the covers in this game? Maybe I should give it a try. How do they have kids? Probably only through adoption, right?” A small flutter set up in his heart, like a butterfly trapped in a cage. Actually, more like an angry hive of bees who just had their next nest infiltrated by a hungry bear. The idea of him and Kenma having kids had never crossed his mind. _Hell,_ gay couples couldn’t even get married in Japan still, let alone adopt as a couple. But, now the idea of a child running around calling them both papa, or daddy, or dada, or old man… he had never wanted anything more.

“Well… usually…” Kenma burrowed further into his chest. He knew Kenma was holding back something from him. Something that was embarrassing enough that the boy didn’t want to tell him the truth. _Interesting._ “Usually the only option is to adopt, but … I-I may have modded the programming.”

“Okay… how did you mod the game? Come on, tellmetellmetellmetellme…” He was drawing a blank. What on earth could Kenma have done to the game to …

“ _Ugggghhhh!_ I modded the programming so that my character could get pregnant!” Kuroo couldn’t breathe. And not just because Kenma’s arms had turned into a vice grip around his waist. _What the fuck?!_ Okay, he hadn’t known about the fact that Kenma had been in love with him since they were children, but he was _positive_ Kenma wasn’t transgender.

“Umm, Kenma… do you…wish you were a girl?”

“What?! NO!” Kenma pushed back out of his arms and wrapped them around his own body, turning his back to Kuroo. “I just, I just read a lot of Omergaverse stories, where people are born as Alphas, Betas or Omegas and any combination can be together and have kids no matter their physical gender, and I just wondered what it would look like if I was pregnant. I mean, you’re obviously an Alpha and more than likely I’d be an Omega, which is the best pairing to have kids.” Kenma’s small head tilted forward, the longer waves of black tilting forward onto his forehead. “And, I’m not gonna lie. I kinda wondered what a kid between us would look like. I mean, you’re gorgeous so you would no doubt have gorgeous babies. But, I’m plain. I would have had plain kids. And I wanted to make sure that if it was possible for us to have kids, that they would turn out beautiful like you.”

As absolutely ridiculous and impossible as it sounded, the idea of Kenma, _his Kenma,_ pregnant with a child they made together was so damn appealing. His belly round and protruding from his petite frame, bumbling around furniture and tables, getting stuck in couches and chairs because his belly was too big to let him get out. Laying on the couch, balancing a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream on the top of his swollen tummy, while Kuroo rubbed his swollen ankles and feet or laid his head on the small mountain, speaking gently to the growing baby just under the skin. Running out at 2:30 am because Kenma just _had_ to have a bowl of fresh fruit drizzled with both chocolate sauce and chili-lime salt.

_God damnit!_

Kuroo stepped up behind Kenma and wrapped his arms around the boy’s slim waist as he pressed the side of his cheek against Kenma’s. He breathed in the boy’s subtle scent and felt Kenma relax against his arms and push back slightly into the safety of his arms and body.  

“I’m gonna tell you every day for the rest of your life if that’s what it takes, you obtuse man.” Kuroo purred against Kenma’s cheek. “You are so unbelievably attractive, smart, gorgeous, funny, cute, nerdy, handsome, and I feel like it is still a dream that I get to call you my boyfriend and hold you like this and kiss you whenever I want. And it kills me when you put yourself down like that. I love you Kenma! Please believe in yourself more.”

Kuroo reached a hand up to grip the underside of Kenma’s chin and tilt it up to meet his lips. He gently brushed his lips against Kenma’s slightly puffy ones. He pressed in lightly, lavishing open mouthed kisses into Kenma. As he slowly swirled his tongue around Kenma’s, he could taste himself in the boy’s mouth. As the taste of himself mingled with Kenma’s essence that was still thick on his own tongue, he moaned at the implications of the flavors that exploded in his mouth. Hot, bitter, salty, and thick. He poured all of his love into that kiss, hoping it would reach across the physical distance between their hearts.

Kuroo pulled back and turned Kenma in his arms, slipping one of his hands down to intertwine his fingers between his lover’s. He placed a single kiss to the center of Kenma’s forehead before resting his own against Kenma’s.

“I love you too.” Kenma whispered into the small space between them. But it wouldn’t have mattered if he had screamed it at the top of his lungs, through a bullhorn, at a full volleyball court; it still shook him to his bone marrow when Kenma said he loved him. The fault line in his heart setting off an earthquake in his soul and body so violent, he was always amazed he was still standing in the aftershocks of it.

“Well handsome, shall we go?” Kuroo pulled back and held out his arm for Kenma to take. A gentleman escorting his lovely date somewhere as they stepped out of their carriage in Victorian England. _Ugh, this is so weird._ But Kenma just giggled and slipped his hand into the crook of Kuro’s elbow.

“Lead the way, _captain._ ”

This man as going to be the death of him. He really was.

“Oh, and I fully expect to see our beautiful children when we get home!” Kuroo teased as Kenma pulled his phone from his pocket and began to play Tetris to hide his embarrassment. “Hey, that’s an idea!”

“For what?” Kenma grunted, not looking up at him.

“Your game! You could do some sort of gay, role playing game.”

“There are a lot of those though. Hanakage, Messiah, Pigeon Blood, Dramatical Murder-”

“Have you played all those!” Kuroo squeaked incredulously.

“I plead the fifth. But those games are all basically the same. Here is the story line, you only have limited options as to how to progress the story line, and here is the ending.” They parted as they descended the stairs, they didn’t need to fall, which would make them even later than they already were.

“Well then, be different. You could do a gay-“

“BL. They’re called BL games.”

“Yes, yes, a _BL_ game, but make it kinds like your Sims game. Open gameplay, you make decisions about how to live your daily life, you can choose who to bang, _or date”_ Kuroo threw on at the end as he felt Kenma’s small first land on his upper arm. “And there is a basic storyline and goal to achieve, but you can still continue to play the game after the main goal has been completed. But you know, that’s just my input. You seem to like those games more than what you are doing for your project so, why not just start fresh?”

Kenma was silent as the pushed through the main doors of their dorm and headed towards the train station. But Kenma’s swipes across the screen were dull and sluggish, he was thinking about what Kuroo said, and thinking hard.

“Maybe that is something I could look into. I don’t really like where my current game is going anyway. Maybe the main character is a struggling voice actor and he meets people through his job, the studio, or just around town. Hmmm,” Kenma rubbed his chin and pocketed his phone down as they took their seats on the train.

“Voice actor huh? Sounds hot. If you had to pick, who would be a voice actor for you if they made a movie of your life or something?”

“Yūki Kaji.” Kenma responded without a second’s hesitation, almost as if he had anticipated Kuroo’s question before he had even thought of it. “Hands down. He’s really talented, and his BL voice acting, especially as an uke, is really fucking hot.” Kuroo’s head snapped around so fast he felt his brain rattle around in his skull. He was never going to get over the fact that Kenma was in fact a sexual being. And if this past month had proved anything, he was a _highly_ sexual being.

As the train lurched forward, they fell into an easy conversation about the new game idea as they were propelled towards their own version of “Meet the Parents”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehe did anyone pick up on the reference to Kenma's ACTUAL seiyuu in the last part?!?! Yeah I'm a dork. But in all honesty, hot af as a uke seiyuu! Don't believe me? Go to YouTube and type in kuroo x Kenma blcd. It's not kuroo's seiyuu but


	21. Never Gonna Be Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, two things for this week: 1) last weeks chapter seems to have upset some readers regarding Kuroo asking Kenma if he wished he was a girl. If that offended you, I apologize. I may go back and rework it later.
> 
> 2) The last few chapters might be delayed. I have been crazy swamped with my masters program ending, taking biochem as my final class, moving to a new house, and getting married in 4 weeks so I haven't had as much time to write as I would like so please don't be alarmed if the next few chapters are delayed by a few days or a week or two. I WILL FINISH THIS STORY!!!
> 
> Once again, thanks for sticking with me and the story thus far! I love you all!
> 
> Song for reference: Never Gonna Be Alone - Nickleback

As Kenma walked down the street from the hotel where he and Kuroo had parted ways, he ran through the plan in his head, checking off each point on his fingers.

Kuroo had been able to push off meeting his mom for only a month before she had threatened to come down and get him personally and drag him, kicking and screaming if she had to, to just have a meal with her and his father. Kuroo had finally relented only under one condition, that he could bring someone.

His mother had been overjoyed. Kuroo had never brought his dates to meet his parents, never considering them long term or important enough to warrant being introduced to his parents. But, at least to Kuroo’s mother, it finally looked like he was getting serious about his future and possibly settling down like a proper son should.

If they had told her that Kuroo was bringing him, and planned to introduce him as their son’s boyfriend and not childhood best friend? Who knows how she would have reacted. Honestly, it was a better idea to tell them in public in case she wanted to make a scene. She might be more willing to keep her composure if there were other people around. A level 1 tornado on the Fujita Scale instead of a level 5. Yeah, you might need to get a new roof because all the shingles were gone, but at least there wouldn’t be a gaping hole where the house used to stand.

Kenma had made a point to invite his parents as well, that way they could get both of their confessions to their parents out of the way at the same time. However, neither set of parents was in the complete know as to who else was coming to lunch with them.

They had made an elaborate plan to each meet their parents separately and then show up at the restaurant close to the same time. Kuroo would make sure that he and his parents got seated in one of the private rooms before Kenma got there, telling his parents that the person he was bringing was running late. Kenma and his parents would be shown to the room and as they entered, both sets of parents would first be overjoyed to see the other, exchanging greetings and pleasantries, before settling down and looking up at their sons, confusion bleeding into their faces. Kenma and Kuroo would then state plainly and simply that they were dating each other and that they intended to stay together, even though it had only been a month. They would each then kneel down in front of the other’s parents and ask in strong voices to permit their relationship, since being in an openly gay relationship was still frowned upon by much of society. There would be some hemming and hawing and some slight reticence, but in the end his and Kuroo’s parents would give them their blessing and would wish them luck in their relationship. A lovely lunch would ensue and everything would be perfect.

He had counted out on his fingers each point of the plan as he came to a stop outside the station where he was supposed to meet his parents. It had to go well. It just had to. He couldn’t think about the possible outcome where he and Kuroo were no longer together after this lunch.

Interspersed between the business men and couples out on a date, since it was the weekend after all, he noticed one particular form speeding up the stairs at full tilt. Almost uncaring of the people they bumped into in their haste to exit the station. _There she is, here goes everything._

His mother bounded up the stairs, her sleek black hair whirling around her head like a tornado as she twirled on the spot as she scanned the crowd, searching him out. Once she saw him, she locked on him like a hawk and took off in his direction at a full sprint.

“KENMAAAA!” She screamed as she locked her arms around his neck and snuggled him into her chest, drawing the incredulous stares of the crowd around them. “Oh, my precious, perfect son, how I’ve missed you!” She always did stuff like this, no matter if he had been gone for an hour or 4 months (like now), she made a point to let him know he was loved and missed. She gasped, “Oh your hair! I love it! So sleek and stylish!” as she rubbed her nose into the short, cropped edge above his ear.

“Hey mom,” he mumbled against the fabric in his mouth, “I missed you too.” He struggled against the iron grip she had on his neck. It amazed him that she had so much strength stored in her petite form. But then again, she had been the reigning woman’s division champion in Judo back in college and continued to practice and teach lessons on the side to this day. So, in actuality, it shouldn’t have been a surprise at all.

Just as she was plastering the side of his face with sloppy, open mouth kisses, he felt a solid wall slam into his back as he and his mom were lifted into the air and spun around.

“Kenma, my son! How’ve you been?” And there was dad, “We were so excited when you called us earlier this week, we immediately put in requests for the day off so we could come see you!” Kenma couldn’t breathe, the vice like grip his mother had around his neck compounded with the bear hug from his father around his waist, served to only allow a small trickle of life-giving oxygen into his lungs.

“Ca-can’t breathe, dad.” He raised his hands to tap at his parent’s arms, begging them to release him. He stumbled out of their embrace as his dad lowered them back to the ground, his mom ruffled his hair and ran her dainty hands along his torso.

“Kenma.” She chided sternly. “You are too skinny. Do you even eat? I know you stay up late designing your programs and probably only eat takeout or instant ramen all the time,” she stared pointedly at him, “but you have to make sure to eat a healthy diet!”

He shuffled his feet together and picked at the skin around his thumbnail. His mom was right, she always was. Sure, he wasn’t as thin or fit like he was in high school, but he had lost maybe close to five pounds in the last few months because of the stress of creating his game for his bachelor’s degree.

“I mean, how can you expect to save Zelda from Ganondorf in Hyrule? Or D.C. from nuclear fallout ghouls and supermutants?” God, his mom was amazing. He chuckled under his breath as she continued her rant of games he had played and how he couldn’t hope to truly complete the missions in them if he didn’t have the proper balance of carbs, protein, and fruits and veggies in his daily diet.

“And how can you even think about traversing Skyrim, taking arrows to the knee and learning words of power as the Dovakhiin if you don’t have enough energy from eating properly!?” Kenma tilted his head down and felt his cheeks warm. If only she knew that “taking an arrow to the knee” in Skyrim was based on old Nordic traditions of when men proposed to the person they wanted to marry by getting down on one knee.

True, this was a falsity that had circulated on the internet under the title P, as in “people will believe anything”, but it still warmed his heart when he thought about the implication of marriage. Especially considering what he was going to be telling his parents in less than an hour.

“I know mom, I know. That’s why we are getting lunch.” His mom started to run her hands through the longer, jet-black lengths on top of his head, combing them to the side of his face as she seemed content with his answer.

“Now Hana, stop that. You’re going to mess up his fancy new ‘do.” His father pried his mom’s fingers from his hair, intertwining his thick fingers between her slim ones as he brought her hand to his face and kissed the back of her knuckles.

He had long ago gotten over the fact that his parents weren’t the typical Japanese couple. Usually, a couple never showed PDA, always spoke politely even if they didn’t feel like it, constantly pushed their kids to do better, to be better, to aspire higher. But his parents, they were one in a million. _Well, two in a million, actually._

His parents were perfect just as they were. They never went more than a day without saying ‘I love you!’ to each other, always made it a point to speak their minds even if it wasn’t the most appropriate response at the time, and Kenma? They couldn’t have been more proud of him. They had been ecstatic when he said that he wanted to put his gaming experience to good use by becoming a game designer. Since the beginning, they had made it a point to keep up with him and his studies, providing praise when he did well and encouragement when he failed.

For all intents and purposes, they were the perfect parents.

Which was why he wanted to throw up right now. What if his parents didn’t agree with the fact he was dating Kuroo? What if they forbid them from being together and demand they break up? What if they said he was a disappointment and a disgrace, after everything they had done for him? How could he bring such shame to his family by… being gay?

Even though it was still only May and averaged about 80 degrees during the day, he shivered as if it was winter. His body telling him to _leave, run away, just ignore the lunch with Kuroo’s family and take his family out for a nice meal._ They could always do this another time.

“Kenma, are you okay? Do you have a fever? You’re shaking.” His dad brushed his fingers across the back of his neck, feeling to see if he did indeed have a fever. Nothing got past his old man. But then again, working as the head doctor in a small family practice office did that to a person. He saw the minute details that most people overlooked, especially when they were sick. So, it made sense his dad would mistake his shivering for being sick.

But, he didn’t want to wait. He had waited almost 13 years for the chance to be with Kuroo and he was _not_ going to ruin it because he was acting like a coward. He loved his parents, and he could never repay them for everything they had done for him. But he was selfish. He wanted to stay with Kuroo, regardless of if his parents approved of his relationship or not.

With that realization, his body stilled. The tremors bled out of his spine and limbs until a calm, resigned warmth filled out under his skin.  He tilted his head up and met both his parent’s eyes in turn. He reached forward and grasped each of their hands, and felt a bright smile tug at the corners of his mouth all the way up to his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Everything is going to be okay.” His parents seemed to be momentarily stunned. His parents looked down at where Kenma was grasping their hands, looked to each other and then back at him.

His smile faltered as he watched as a single tear ran down his mom’s face. _Shit, what did I do? What did I say?_

“Mom, mom don’t cry. I-I’m sorry, what did I-”

“Oh, Kenma!” His parents both launched themselves at him, smothering him once again between them in a “Kozume & Kenma Sandwich”, as they had always called it. “Baby, you did nothing wrong, you just look so happy! We haven’t seen you make that kind of face in such a long time and it’s _SO_ great to see it again! You are happy, right?”

Kenma felt moisture coat both side of his neck as his parents burrowed their faces into him. _Don’t cry, don’t cry. Keep it together._ He brought his hands up and petted both of their heads, attempting to calm the small shudders of their shoulders.

“Yes mom, I am. I’m happier than I have ever been.” They pulled back from him. His mom owning up to her emotional display by chuckling softly as she swiped her fingers under her eyes. His dad tried to hide the fact he had also been crying by turning away from him, coughing into his elbow and vigorously rubbing at his eyes before turning around once more.

“And,” he continued, “the reason for that is why I wanted you to come have lunch today… I want you to meet someone.” Yeah, maybe _meet_ wasn’t the best word to use in this situation since Kuroo had been raised almost like a second son by his parents, but oh well. He’d cross that bridge, in about 45 minutes anyway so it was okay.

“YES! I’m gonna be a grandma yet!” His mom’s hands shot up to her mouth, almost as if he was praying, and started bounding up and down on the soles of her feet, squealing loudly.

“Hana, all he said was that he wanted us to meet someone, not that he was getting married or having kids yet.” _Thank god for dad._ He always had been the level headed one. The only one who had been able to keep him mom calm at times and acted as the voice of reason in the family. At least until Kenma was old enough to string words together in coherent sentences. “But… being a grandpa sounds amazing! No, you know what, it sounds _badass_! WooHoo!” He punched the air with his fist, his salt and pepper hair fluttering up around his head at the quick motion. “So, when do we get to be grandparents?”

_God dammnit dad!_

Kenma chocked on the small amount of moisture that was left in his mouth and cleared his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Probably still not for a while, sorry.” Both his parents crossed their arms over their chests and pouted, _fucking pouted!_ “But, this person does mean a lot to me, so I want you to like them.” Begrudgingly, they lowered their arms and relaxed their pouts.

“Okay baby. We’ll play nice. But, we don’t care who she is or what she looks like. If she makes you this happy, we will love her no matter what!” His mom ruffled his hair again before his dad swatted her hand away gently and fixed him back up.

“Hana, I already told you, don’t mess up his hair! He finally is taking care of himself and looking handsome,” his dad turned to him pointedly, “not that you haven’t always been handsome, the new hairdo and your spiffy clothes just bring you into the hot, fuckable category now.”

Where was the closest manhole he could crawl into? His dad could be just as bad as him mom when it came to embarrassing him. “And now he has a girl to show off for?! Don’t ruin his chances before we even get to lunch!” He slung his arm across Kenma’s shoulder and turned back to his mom, as if to state that his argument was superior and would win out in the end, in concerns to his hair at least.

“What are you talking about Kiyonori!” She grabbed for his arm, yanking him out from under his dad’s arm. “Kenma has always had sex appeal! The girls were all over his nerdy, sensitive, gamer ass in high school so why would just altering a few outward things change that? If she only likes him because he looks “fuckable” now, I’ll cut a bitch!”

_Seriously?_

His parents were seriously arguing over how much “game” he had? In broad daylight? In the middle of a busy road? He had to put a stop to this now so that passersby would stop staring at his family like they all belonged in the loony bin.

“Okay, both of you stop.” Kenma pulled out of his mom’s grasp and placed her in front of himself next to his dad. His parents were around his height, both maybe a few inches taller than he was, so he was able to meet their eyes almost directly. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at them with his typical apathetic glower. “You’re both acting like children. You can’t act like that at lunch. Please act like the adults I know you can be.” His parents hung their heads and shuffled their feet like toddlers.

“Okay, Kenma. We’re sorry baby. We are just so excited to meet her! What’s her name? What does she look like?” And just like that, they were beaming at him. Eyes wide and faces hopeful, like kids at Christmas.

“Come, on. You’ll meet them soon enough and can decide for yourself.” He turned on his heel and headed for the Park Hyatt Hotel and the Kozue restaurant inside. Where Kuroo and his parents were waiting. Waiting to meet the person that Kuroo was seeing as a potential wife. Unknowingly, waiting to meet _him._

His parents bombarded him with questions the entire way to the hotel and even as the hostess was showing them to one of the private rooms in the back of the hotel restaurant. However, all questions stopped once the screen door opened and Kuroo and his parents were sitting on the other side of the room.

His mom rushed into the room and immediately wrapped her arms around Kuroo’s mom while his dad quickly walked over to the other man and shook his hand vigorously.

“Ayame! It’s so good to see you!” The dainty woman sputtered as Hana snuggled into her neck.

“Yamato, it has been so long! How have you been?” Kuroo’s dad seemed to gain his composure more quickly than his wife and smiled back at Kiyonori and the two fell into an easy conversation about the weather.

He looked over at Kuroo and both boys rolled their eyes. They knew for a fact that their parents had just had dinner last week, but this was typical for Kenma’s parents. Over-the-top, boisterous, love exuding out of every pore.

“Oh!” Hana pulled back from Ayame and plopped down on a cushion next to her. “I know why we are all gathered here!” Kenma’s blood turned to ice as he stared at him mom, his dad settling onto his own seat next to Kuroo’s dad. How had she guessed so quickly why they were all there? He was certain he hadn’t done or said anything to give them away _that_ quickly.

He wasn’t ready. He had had prepared a whole speech. He would pour out his heart to Kuroo’s and his parents and let them know that his feelings were sincere. They had to believe him. They had to believe in his love for Kuroo.

“They both got girlfriends and wanted to show them off at the same time!”

If Kenma hadn’t been so shocked, he would have slapped his own face in frustration. He loved his mom, he really did. But sometimes she was a little slow on the uptake.

Kuroo’s mom, however, narrowed her eyes as they flicked slowly between him and her son. Her arms drifted up to cross over her chest, assuming her typical demeanor and stance of being the owner of her own interior design firm. She was determined, and fierce, and when her eyes landed on him, Kenma felt two inches tall. _She knows! She knows and I’m not good enough for her son!_

Kenma felt all the blood leave his face and pool in his fingers and toes and the whole inside of his torso went ice cold. This had indeed a mistake. Kenma chewed his bottom lip and glanced down as his hands wrung together, his back hunched forward as the weight of what they were doing settled over him.

Nobody was going to accept the fact that they were dating. They were going to say that this was just a phase and they would ‘get serious’ if they just dated girls and settled down. That they were just confused and that they were mixing up their feelings of friendship for romantic love and that they would come to their senses soon. That this would never last. That they would never last. That they had been doomed from the start. The fact that he had finally found so much happiness with Kuroo was all going to come crashing down around his ears and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Tremors radiated out from Kenma’s spine and down through his limbs. This had been such a bad idea. Kuroo’s parents were going to hate him and he was finally giving his parents a real reason to be disappointed in their only son. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t do this, he couldn’t-

“Sorry, _obasan_. But, that’s not actually why we wanted you all here today.” Kenma felt a warm, firm pressure surround his hands, pry them apart and take one of his hands and grasped it. Kenma looked up at Kuroo only to find him beaming down at him. His face relaxed and a gentle smile spread across his lips. Kenma was blinded by the love and calm that shone out of Kuroo’s face. So much so that it warmed him all the way down to his icy cold core and replaced it with a gentle, liquid warmth.

Kuroo loved him. He told Kenma so every day without fail, sometimes even multiple times a day. Almost as if he was making up for lost time by piling on the loving sentiment as much as he could. And he never got tired of hearing it, or saying it back whenever he got the chance. He remembered hearing somewhere before that the more you say, ‘I love you’ to someone, the less potent the meaning behind the sentiment became. But, Kenma had found that only to be the opposite in their case. Every time Kuroo whispered those words against his lips when he woke up in the morning, or shouted them from the ground level up towards his room as he waved him off for class, or groaned them against his neck, Kuroo’s fist was wrapped around both of their cocks and stroking hard as he came all over Kenma’s stomach; he fell in love with Kuroo all over again.

“The truth is-” Kuroo held his hand tightly and didn’t look away from him for even a moment, as if to make sure he knew how important this was for them and how serious Kuroo was in regard to their relationship. He must have known that if he looked away from Kenma now, that he would devolve into himself again and become a bundle of nerves and anxiety.

Kenma’s shoulder’s relaxed as the tension seeped out of his bones, the beginnings of a small smile pulling at the sides of his mouth and eyes. Kuroo wasn’t going to leave him, no matter what their parents said. No matter if their friends accepted them or not. No matter what random strangers on the street said if they saw them holding hands or stealing a quick kiss. Kuroo loved him, and he was never going to leave. Kenma took a deep breath, all the way down through his diaphragm, and steeled his spine.

“The truth is, we’re dating. And we hope you can give us your blessing.” Kenma turned to face their parents, all of whom resembled dead sardines the way their eyes were blown wide and their mouths gaped open. “Mom, dad,” he looked between his parents, “I know this is probably not what you wanted for me, but this is what I want.” He turned to face Kuroo’s parents, gritting his teeth, “Please _obasan, ojisan_. I love your son and he makes me happy. Please let me take care of him.” Kenma bowed from his waist, almost flattening his back out straight in the process.

“I second everything Kenma said. Mom, dad. I know you wanted me to settle down with a nice woman and give you grandkids, but I love Kenma, I have for a very long time and I want this. But, whether you approve of us or not is of no consequence to me. Even if you hate that we are together and forbid us from staying together, it’s not going to change how I feel.” He felt Kuroo shift to look at his parents. “ _Obasan,_ I love your son, with everything that I have. He is my reason for waking up in the morning and he is my silver lining on a bad day. I promise to always love him, even if we disagree or fight, because Kenma is worth fighting for.”

_Fuck,_ he was going to start crying again. What was it about Kuroo that made him want to cry so often. It had turned into an almost a twice weekly occurrence. Kuroo had brought home flowers the day after they had started dating, and Kenma had turned into a fountain. On their one week anniversary, Kuroo had made a huge homemade dinner all the way down to wearing his nicest suit, and Kenma had turned into a leaking sieve. After the first time they had touched each other, sober, and it had only lasted a couple of minutes because of the intensity of the situation, Kenma had turned into a waterfall. Kuroo Tetsuro had managed to turn him into a weepy, emotional man. And he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“ _Ojisan_ ,” Kuroo’s voice traveled over his head towards his father, “I love your son, and I want to protect him for the rest of my life. But, Kenma is a strong, independent, intelligent man who I know does not need my protection, but I want to try. I want to share my life with him, in whatever capacity he wants me to. I will respect your son, and love him for as long as I am able to. This I promise you. Please, let me take care of him.” Kuroo bent just as low as Kenma, their heads in perfect alignment and their body’s perpendicular to the floor.

As the minutes ticked by, Kenma’s back started to tremble, and not just from having to hold his body in such a weird angle. Neither of their parents had said anything yet, and he dared not look up and see the disappointment in their eyes he was certain was there.

“You love this boy?” Kenma flinched as Kuroo’s mom spoke, her voice monotone and devoid of emotion.

“Yes.” Kuroo said, his voice hard with conviction.

“And you say nothing will change your mind?” _oh no._ Kuroo moved into an upright position again, but Kenma couldn’t bring himself to move, not yet.

“No, I will not.”

More deafening silence. Kenma could hear the blood pump past his ears, making the room sound like it was up next to the crashing waves of the ocean instead of the middle of busy Tokyo.

“After everything we have done for you.” _God, no._ “This is how you repay us. We gave you _everything!_ ” Kuroo’s mom’s voice was sharp, taking on more of an emotional edge. One tinged with outrage and fury. She bit the words out, clipped and hot.

“Ayame, please.” Kuroo’s dad cooed quietly from beside her, attempting to calm his wife. At the rate her voice was rising, even though they were in a private room, they might start disturbing people in the main dining area and possibly force a manager to come and check on them or kick them out for making a scene.

“Shut up, Yamato!” She hissed at her husband and Kenma could see him settle meekly back into his seat from underneath his lashes. “How can you be so ungrateful! You were given the best schooling, the best tutors and teachers! I even let you play that stupid sport because you said you wanted to and you were able to keep your grades up! We even conceded to let you become a _teacher_ ,” she said with disgust, “even though you can do so much better than having a lower-class job like that. I put up with all of that, all of the disappointments you have caused me over the years, all of the backtalk and the disobedience, and now you come to me with _THIS!_ No Kuroo, I’m putting my foot down, this is unacceptable! You will put an end to this farce and you will meet with a girl we have picked out for you as a potential wife immediately!”

She was standing now, screaming at Kuroo. She hadn’t even said anything to Kenma and he just wanted to collapse on the floor from the weight of her disappointment and anger so he didn’t know how Kuroo was able to withstand the storm. But Kenma’s back was screaming in protest and he had to stand or else he would be flat on the floor. Shaking as he moved to an upright position, he kept his eyes cast down.

“And you!” She spat in Kenma’s direction. “How could you do this to my son, _my son!_ He was normal and now you’ve ruined him! How can you live with yourself, destroying someone else’s chance at a happy life because of your selfishness?” Kenma’s eyes burned. He knew this was a possibility. That at least one if not both sets of parents would be against them, but to actually hear his worst fear vocalized by someone he respected tore at his heart and jostled his brain.

“Enough!” Kuroo moved to stand in front of Kenma while gently pushing him behind him, protecting him from the verbal onslaught. Kenma raised his hands and fisted them into the back of Kuroo’s shirt for support. “You will _not_ speak to Kenma that way! You can be as disappointed in me as you want, but don’t take this out on him. He did nothing wrong! In fact, I was the one who pretty much confessed to him first. I’ve been in love with him for a really long time, mom.” He heard the telltale sound of sharp heels clack against the hardwood of the floor as Kuroo’s mom stood and walked around the short table.  

“This is your last chance, Tetsuro. End this little game, now, and grow up. These feelings you have aren’t real and they will fade. And when you are crying alone in your room because this _relationship_ didn’t work out, you will want to come to us for comfort. If you choose to do this, you can forget the possibility of that comfort being open to you. Ever. Decide!”

Kenma’s knees turned to jelly and he almost fell to the floor. Kuroo’s mom was making him choose between his family and the small boy he had loved most of his life. Kenma couldn’t ask Kuroo to choose him. As badly as his heart wanted him to choose him, he couldn’t ask for it. He did not, and would not, be the cause of what caused a rift between him and his family.

He needed to let him go. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut. If only he had never gotten drunk that night and confessed, maybe even now Kuroo would be going on normal dates, trying to find a wife and settle down. He tilted his head up to try and speak the words that would utterly ruin him for the rest of his life and began to loosen his hands from the back of Kuroo’s shirt.

But before he could get a single syllable out, Kuroo turned abruptly and took his face between his hands, crushing Kenma’s lips to his. Kenma’s hands shot up around Kuroo’s wrists to try and pull them off his face. But as Kuroo’s tongue slid along the seam between his lips, all he could do was gasp at Kuroo’s forwardness before his mouth was utterly dominated and owned by his lover.

His head tipped back slightly as he pressed his small body into the safe warmth of Kuroo’s chest. He didn’t want this to end. He knew there were four sets of gaping eyes on them and they were technically still in public, but he craved Kuro’s kiss, his hands, his body, his soul. He craved this man, because he tasted like sunshine on a winter’s day. A bright light of pure warmth that penetrated his icy heart and core, a symbol that not all was lost, a glimpse of the impending spring and all the new possibilities that the season brought with it.

Kuroo pulled back, still holding his face and gently placed his forehead against Kenma’s.

“There wasn’t even a choice to make, but does that answer your question.” The statement had been phrased like a question, but Kuroo’s tone left no room for discussion. This was what, and who he wanted, more than anything in the world and nothing, and no one, was going to change that.

“You are making the biggest mistake of your life, and you will regret it one day Testuro. But do not come crying to us when you finally realize that. Yamato, we’re leaving.” Kenma could only look up into Kuroo’s eyes as the couple departed for the door. He didn’t dare look away and show Kuroo that he was weak, that he even doubted them and their relationship for one second.

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way. I still love you both though mom, dad.”

He heard a creak as the sliding door slid open and the couple departed through it. But before the door was shut closed, Kenma heard something that broke his heart.

“You are no son of ours.” Ayame slid the door shut quietly, and they were gone. Like a hurricane, coming out of nowhere and disappearing in the blink of an eye. The only indicator that the hurricane had even happened was the trail of absolute destruction it left in its wake. And Kuroo’s mom had definitely left a trail of destruction behind her when she had left.

Kenma searched Kuroo’s eyes, looking for any trace of hesitation or an inkling of having second guesses. His hands gripped Kuroo’s wrists tighter and his eyes pricked when all he saw was love shining down on him tinged with an edge of hard determination. Kuroo had been truthful and serious in his declaration to his parents, and it seemed as though he had known this would be the outcome all along and he had made his peace with it before they even met up today.

“Kuro-” Kenma chocked out, his throat dry as tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Hey, hey, babe!” Kuroo thumbed at that fell down his cheeks, swiping the moisture away. “Please don’t cry. This isn’t the outcome I had hoped for, but I still got the most important part. I still get you!” Kuroo bent gently and pressed his lips to each of Kenma’s eyelids, kissing away his tears. “That is, if you’ll still have me?”

“Idiot!” Kenma released Kuroo’s wrists and grabbed his face in return, pulling him down to meet his lips. Kuroo’s hands left his face and circled around his waist as he pulled him into his body. “I love you,” he whispered against Kuroo’s lips, and he felt the lips against his turn up in a sloppy smile.

A throat was cleared behind him and he pulled back immediately. _Maybe they came back, maybe they changed their mind!_ Kenma whipped his head around and saw both his parts standing, elbow to elbow, just on the other side of the table. _Oh, right._

They were mirror images of each other, from their unreadable expressions down to their crossed arms and popped hips, shifting all their body weight onto one leg and turning the other out easily. He knew where this was going. He had done the ultimate betrayal of his parents love and trust. He knew it, and had willingly done it, and he didn’t care.

“So, you say you love our son?” His dad questioned, his voice hard and with an edge of distrust. Kuroo turned to face Kenma’s father and placed a hand around Kenma’s opposite hip, pulling him close to his side.

“Yes, _ojisan,_ I love your son. And as you can see from what just happened,” he tilted his head towards the door his own parents had just left through, “nothing anybody says is going to change my mind or make me give up on the one thing I’ve always wanted. So, I’m sorry if you disapprove, but I will not back down on this.”

“Neither will I.” He had to say something, make his parents understand that he wasn’t just going along with what Kuroo wanted. But let them know that this was a choice that he made freely and willingly.

“Then just answer us one thing?” his mom interjected. “How long? How long have you two been engaged in a relationship?”

“It will be our one month anniversary next week actually.” Kuroo said proudly, gently squeezing his side between his fingers.

“I can’t believe this…” His mom stared down at the floor, arms dropping to her sides.

“Mom, I’m sorry.” He responded quickly, trying to smooth over the irreparable damage he had caused his parents.

“I can’t believe it Kiyonori! Damn it, it’s not fair!” Her words were like a cannon ball through the heart. This had been such a mistake.

“Ha! Pay up Hana!” His father’s face lit up in a face breaking smile and held out a hand towards his mother as she picked up her purse and rifled through it for her wallet, a clear pout across her plump lips.

_What…?_

“That will be 45,000 yen, please!” Kenma watched in horror as his mother flipped out her checkbook on the table and furiously wrote out a strip of paper for the amount his father mentioned. Tearing it violently from the small booklet, she shoved it into his hands.

_What the fuck?!_

His dad continued to taunt his mom, dancing around on the balls of his feet and waving the check in front of her face saying, ‘told you so!’ over and over again and his mom continued to pout visibly, which was now aggravated by her stomping her foot like a toddler during a temper tantrum.

“Wait, wait wait…” he tried to wrap his head around what he was seeing, rubbing his palm over his eyes and down his face. “What’s going on? Aren’t you upset?” Both his parents sobered quickly and turned to face him and Kuroo before coming around the other side of the table until they were face to face with both men.

“Baby,” his mom cooed before gently stroking his hair once more, “We aren’t mad. We’ve always seen Tetsuro-kun as a son to us, now he just gets to be a little bit closer to actually being a part of our family.”  She dropped her hand from his hair and shifted to cup the side of Kuroo’s face between her hands. “Tetsuro. We love you, so much! And we are so, so sorry that your parents reacted that way. And honestly, this was not a shock to us. Not in the slightest.”

She reached down to grasp his hand, the one that was not shaking lightly against Kenma’s hip, and went to grab her biological son’s hand in her other.

“If you make my baby happy, then there is nothing more a parent could want for their child. We love you, Tetsuro.” She raised Kuroo’s hand to her lips and placed a kiss soundly against the back of his knuckles. “And we love you too, Kenma.” She repeated the action with his own hand, smudging her bright red lipstick against his skin.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his dad maneuver behind them and place a broad hand on Kuroo’s shoulder. “Welcome to the family, son.”

God, he loved his parents. What the fuck had he ever done to deserve such beautiful souls as them? He felt Kuroo lean into him heavily and his breathing became labored and quick. Kenma glanced up at Kuroo, whose eyes were squeezed shut and his face was titled down towards the floor. His mouth was open slightly as he tried to breathe deeply, as tears fell from his eyes and slid down his cheeks.

His parents rushed in to help Kenma catch him as Kuroo’s knees gave out and they all fell to the floor in a huddle. Kenma had his arms wrapped around Kuroo’s waist and Kuro’s were tangled around his shoulders in return. His parents were wrapped around both of them, holding them tightly as if in an embrace that would keep them safe from all the world’s evil and prejudice.

They stayed like that for who knows how long, all four of them crying. Either loud wails like his mom, small chuffing noises like him, or manly sniffs here and there like his dad and Kuroo. Eventually, as if on cue, they all seemed to come to the conclusion that it was time to come back to reality. The tears were dried and noses wiped, clothes were readjusted and they moved to the table to order the meal they had originally planned on for the day. Since his parents said they were celebrating their ‘sons’ finding happiness, they said they would pay for the meal and that they wanted to get the Fuji spread. He and Kuroo had talked them out of paying 10,000 yen per person just for food and got them to settle on the basic Gen special. However, they insisted and would not budge on buying one of the more expensive bottles of sake, Juyondai Junmai Ginjo Sake from the Junmai Ginjo region and cost close to 24,000 yen per bottle.

As their meals were placed in front of them, Kenma downed his small cup of sake and started in on his Goby fish and seaweed tempura. The meat was flaky, light, and held a small hint of sweetness to the flesh. The crunch of the tempura balancing out the lightness of the fish and seaweed nicely.

“Wait!” he exclaimed, wiping a small dribble of sauce from his lips with the back of his hand, “Then, what was that all about, with mom writing you a check if you weren’t mad about me dating Kuroo?” He felt a brush against the side of his hand and looked down to see Kuroo’s fingers gently trace the edge of his hand and pinky finger. He tilted his hand so his palm was facing up, urging Kuroo to slip his hand into his and entwine their fingers together.

“Oh that!” his dad said around a mouthful of steamed rice and pickled vegetables. “Well, your mom and I made a bet back when you were in high school.” He placed his chopsticks in their holder and reached for his mom’s hand, which she took begrudgingly, continuing to shove soba noodles into her mouth and throw back small cups of sake. “See, we knew you were in love with each other since you were kids, but we thought at least _one_ of you would quit being stupid and just confess once you started high school.” His parents stared pointedly at each of them as if they were the dumbest human beings on the planet.

“So, once you got into high school Kenma, and were a year behind Tetsuro-kun, your father and I made a bet.” His mother interjected. “I was convinced one of you would figure it out before you graduated and would confess in high school-”

“But I,” his dad jabbed his thumb into his chest and puffed it out pointedly, “knew that you two were going to continue to be slow and wouldn’t figure it out until college! So, I won the 45,000 yen! And now I get to put that money towards a new motorbike! _Wahoo_ , I’m getting me a Honda Rebel 500! _”_ His dad did a fist pump in the air as his mom held her face between her hands and groaned audibly.

“No, no, _ojisan!_ ” Kuroo exclaimed, “The Ducati SuperSport is what you want.” Kuroo leaned forward, placing his own chopsticks on their holder before launching into an explanation of how the Ducati is superior to the Honda. Not only was it a smoother ride but it also could hold two people instead of just one.

“Well, who said I would want to take Hana on the road with me?” his dad chortled and gently placed a hand on his mom’s shoulder, which she immediately brushed off.

“I wouldn’t ride on that death machine with you even if it was the zombie apocalypse, _baka!”_ she screeched at him as he wrapped her up in a full body hug, hauling her across the side of the table and into his lap. He kissed the side of her face and neck, murmuring soft compliments against her skin until her struggles calmed and she settled into her husband’s embrace and kissed him soundly.

“But you have to! Don’t you remember, you said you would be my zombie apocalypse partner. If I turn, who’s going to protect the rest of normal society by putting me out of my misery, love?” his dad whined.

“ _Fine_ , Kiyonori! I promise that if there is a zombie apocalypse, I will be your hunting partner until you turn. Then, I have no reservations about painting the sidewalk with your brains.” She huffed, while carding her fingers through his salt and pepper hair.

“That’s my girl!” his parents were the biggest dorks he knew. And he played video games for a living. Or at least would once he graduated and found a job creating games. His mom scrambled to get off his dad’s lap, stating that she wanted to finish her meal. He acquiesced, but not before he gave her a swift smack on the ass. She giggled and shook her ass in response before plopping down and picking up her chopsticks once again.

Kenma put his face in his hands and groaned audibly as Kuroo clutched his sides and released deep, belly laughs. _Biggest dorks in the history of the universe._

As the meal resumed, his dad looked up and grabbed his wife’s hand. “Oh, and no more of this _ojisan_ and _obasan_ nonsense...”

“Please, if you feel comfortable enough, call us _otousan_ and _okaasan_.” His mom finished.

_Mom and dad._ They wanted Kuroo to call them not just mother and father-in law, but honest-to-god mom and dad. They were making it so that Kuroo knew he had a family to rely on, no matter if he failed or disappointed them. Kuroo tilted his chin down and stared at his half-eaten meal.

“Thank you… _Otousan… Okaasan…_ ” His voice was strained and rough, the words leaving his throat coarse as though Kuroo had just swallowed gravel. Kenma switched his chopsticks to his left hand, the benefits of being semi-ambidextrous, and placed his open palm on the back of Kuroo’s back. He rubbed wide, slow circles into the tight muscles in attempt to soothe Kuroo and ground him.

He knew his parents would never be able to replace Kuroo’s, or fully mend the rift that had formed between them, but at least it was a start. And he was going to do whatever he could to help.

But, what could he do? How could he show Kuroo that no matter what, he loved him and would never leave him?

An idea hit Kenma so hard he dropped the mouthful of soba that was halfway to his mouth and felt his face burn as if it had caught fire.

_Well, I guess there is always… THAT._


	22. The Cure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh you guys, I FINALLY got my lazy ass in gear after the wedding and after starting the new school year and I have FINISHED the last chapter of Kitten's Kurse. Now I make no promises but there is the POTENTIAL for an epilogue, we shall see though. Thank you all so much for sticking with this story till the end and I hope this chapter makes up for the crazy long wait!

It took close to another week for Kenma to get everything in order. He knew how he wanted to help Kuroo heal. He had been waiting for the perfect moment and this seemed like the best time. He had made his decision resolute before they had even left the restaurant the day of their half-failed ‘coming-out’ party to their parents.

For goodness sake, the man already owned his heart and soul, he just had not yet laid complete claim to his body. Now that it was almost their one-month anniversary, Kenma was mentally kicking himself for not being more assertive with Kuroo sooner.

Now, there was so much pressure for it to be perfect.

When they had gotten home from lunch, he had wanted to tell Kuroo right then to follow him. Just take him gently by the hand and lead him into either his bedroom and gently prod Kuroo into finally taking the plunge, that final leap off the cliff that would cement their relationship and the feelings they had for one another.

However, once they got back to their dorm, Kuroo’s mask fell and Kenma was taken aback by how exhausted and dejected he had looked. He placed a fleeting kiss to Kenma’s lips and mumbled something about going to take a shower and that Kenma could go play games in the meantime.

All thoughts of making that night their first night flew out the window at the sight of Kuroo’s thinly veiled hurt and depression.

Unsure of how he could best have helped Kuroo, he took his advice and curled up on the couch to play his PSP. However, he wanted to be able to check on Kuroo to make sure he was okay so he made sure to set a timer on his phone for 15 minutes of play time. He decided that if Kuroo hadn’t gotten out of the shower by then, he would go in and check on him. He probably just needed a little bit of space right now to decompress and digest everything that had happened.

The 15 minutes came and went, and Kenma immediately put the game down, even though he had just been about to beat Bowser and save Princess Peach. He crept silently to the bathroom door and placed his ear against the wood panel. The sound of running water bled through the thin barrier, but nothing else.

He swallowed thickly and gently turned the handle, releasing a small breath when he found that Kuroo had not locked the door after he had gone in. The small room was filled with a thick, heavy, stifling fog. Evidence that the water had been turned to its highest setting of ‘peel-the-flesh-off-your-bones-faster-than-when-Gollum-fell-into-the-fires-of-Mt.-Doom’. He squinted through the fog and could make out a hunched figure sitting on the small, rough stool, his back to the door, as the detachable showerhead rained down a waterfall of boiling water onto his back.

His heart thrummed hard in his chest as he stared at Kuroo’s silhouette. He looked so small and helpless in his chosen position. His head pitched forward and cradled between his hands. His shoulders drooped as though he were Atlas, supporting the entirety of the globe on his shoulders. The small white hand towel he usually placed over his lap when he just wanted to enjoy the steam of the shower was in a wet, misshapen pile next to the stool.

Without thinking, or even stopping to understanding the compulsion, Kenma stripped out of his clothes and placed them in a messy pile on top of Kuroo’s in the hamper. Silently, he padded across the cold tile towards his lover and once he got up close, he noticed how red Kuro’s skin had gotten. He looked like a boiled lobster. That had been out in the sun at the beach all day. And then rolled in paprika for some added kick.

He reached forward silently and adjusted the temperature of the water down to a more manageable level for the both of them, and came to stand in front of Kuroo. He crouched down onto the balls of his feet and reached up to gently take Kuroo’s cheeks in his small hands.

Kuroo had jumped out of his skin at the contact, _did he not even notice the temperature change?,_ he had wondered. Kuroo had placed himself directly under the spray so that he was the only one who was getting wet. The steady stream of water cascaded down his muscular back and chest in thick rivulets before splattering against the tiled floor. He leaned forward slightly so that his face wasn’t under the spray and Kenma reached forward, sliding a small lock of hair off his forehead so that it framed the outside edge of his right eye.

“Hey, if we were living in an apartment instead of a dorm, you would have driven our water bill through the roof by now, you know?” That wasn’t what he had meant to say. _Why the fuck did I say that?_ He had meant to take on the role of doting, sensitive, supportive boyfriend. A persona that Kuroo had seemed to be able to adopt within the first few minutes of them dating, but one that he himself had yet to master.

Kuroo stared back at him for a moment before chuckling gently, his hands coming up to scrub at his face roughly.

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” He replied sheepishly.

“No, it’s okay. I just wanted to check on you. You’ve been in here for almost 30 minutes now.” Kenma wasn’t actually sure if it had been a half hour yet. He knew it was longer than 15 minutes yet no longer than 24 hours.

He was so bad with time, _which explains why I’m usually late for things when I start playing a game._

“Thanks, babe.” Kuroo’s eyes shifted back down to his feet, watching as the water circled the drain in a vortex before disappearing down into the abyss. Kenma glanced over to the far wall and noticed that all their shower products were still lined up haphazardly along the ceramic shelf in the wall, which meant that Kuroo hadn’t truly showered. He had just sat here, under the spray, probably letting his mind wander and get the best of him, and the whole situation, the entire time.

Kenma pushed himself back to a standing position and walked over to the small shelf. He snagged Kuroo’s Old Spice products and placed them next to the stool under the showerhead before he reached up and twisted the knob on the neck of the showerhead to shut off the flow of water. He squeezed out a small blob of ocean blue gel into the crown of Kuroo’s head and began to massage the suds through his black tresses.

Kenma pushed harder towards the back of Kuroo’s head to leverage it backwards so that the foamy suds didn’t get in his eyes. Thankfully though, Kuroo took the hint and kept his head tilted back. However, his eyes remained open and fixated on Kenma’s face. He felt his face warm, which he told himself was a side effect of the steam, not because he was embarrassed at having Kuroo watch him so intently.

Kenma took his time running his hands through Kuroo’s hair, making sure the shower gel foamed up nicely. Every few minutes he would stop and admire his handiwork at the shampoo styled hair he had constructed, before grabbing the small mirror they had attached to the wall of their shared shower for shaving purposes and letting Kuroo see as well.

The first time he had made a bunch of spikes all over Kuroo’s head that looked as soft, and fluffy as the peaks on Lemon Meringue Pie. Before it had gone into the oven, of course. The next time, he had swooped all Kuroo’s hair onto the center of his head in a punk-style mohawk. That one had earned a small chuckle from the man at his feet.

The last style was by far his favorite though. He slicked Kuroo’s hair back and gently drug his fingertips through the styled mass until multiple, small rows formed. He gently pressed his fingertips back starting in front of Kuroo’s ears and traced all the way back to the back of his skull following his hairline, flattening down any usurper strands. He turned the mirror around one final time to show off his creation.

“There. Now you look like that Danny guy from the car movie you love.” Kuroo smirked up at him and he felt his insides turn to jelly. There was the Kuroo he loved. Not that he didn’t love him regardless of what emotion he was exuding, he just liked this version best.

“Look at that, I’m Greased Lightning!” Kuroo wrapped his arms around Kenma’s torso and pulled him down until he straddled his lap and had propped his forehead against Kenma’s. He reached up and gently smoothed his hand over the back of Kuroo’s head as he readjusted himself so he could sit comfortably, side saddle style, across Kuroo’s thighs.

“Tell me about it… dude?” He couldn’t exactly remember the words but he was probably close enough. Probably.

“ _Ugh,_ babe! It’s stud! ‘Tell me about it, _stud!_ ’” Kuroo buried his face into Kenma’s neck as he grumbled his displeasure at Kenma’s inability to remember a simple word. Kenma made an attempt to stand and retrieve the handheld showerhead, but Kuroo had clung to him so tightly he didn’t make it very far. He quickly pulled Kuroo’s face away from his neck, a huge blob of suds sticking to the side of his neck, and placed a tender kiss to his lips, long enough to distract him so he could escape his grasp, but not long enough to made Kenma forget why he had wanted to get up in the first place.

He grabbed the showerhead and flipped it back on.

“Close your eyes.” He instructed as he felt the spray with his hand to make sure the temperature was good enough.

“But then I can’t admire my beautiful boyfriend’s sexy bod!” Kuroo pouted as he attempted to reach for Kenma’s hips to pull him back down onto his lap. It seemed he had finally picked up on the fact that Kenma was naked. In the shower. With his boyfriend.

Kenma ducked his head and forced Kuroo’s head down as he brought the showerhead up to rain down over his head. Kuroo chuckled as his hair went from sudsy, salt and pepper white to jet black once again.

Once Kuroo’s hair and body were free of the soapy residue he switched the showerhead off, and padded over to the sink. He slipped three towels free from the cabinet and tied one around his own waist before maneuvering back to Kuroo.

He forced the tall man into a standing position and tied one of the other towels around his hips before having him plop back down on the stool. Kenma threw the last towel over Kuroo’s head before rubbing at the damp, unruly mop. He made sure to rub vigorously enough to wick the moisture away, but was gentle enough to not cause pain.

He pushed the towel back until he could meet Kuroo’s eyes once again as he continued to dry his hair. He took one of the corners of the towel and dabbed at the small rivulets that ran down Kuroo’s cheeks, nose, and chin.

But, at some point, Kenma realized that the droplets were no longer coming from Kuroo’s wet hair, but from his eyes. Tears.

It broke his heart.

Kenma had stopped rubbing and leaned forward until he had enveloped Kuroo in as much of his arms as he could and as he felt Kuro’s arms cling to him in return, he just held on as he cried.

For close to the entirety of the following week, Kuroo had talked very little and had sought the comfort of Kenma’s arms anytime he was home. Which had made his ability to prepare for their anniversary difficult.

Luckily for Kenma though, Kuroo seemed to have come around in the last day or two. When he had gotten home after class yesterday, Kuroo had been sitting on the couch watching a volleyball match between Australia and Canada, his phone propped against his shoulder as he screamed into it.

“Bo, listen to me! So what if Australia’s libero Perry is said to be a better spiker than most ace’s, you are not most aces! You are Bokuto Koutarou! You aren’t even on the same level as most other aces, you’re the freaking vice-captain for the Japanese team, you dork! Just be the amazing player you are and you will lead us to victory, I know it!”

_Ah, he must be in emo mode again._ Bokuto got like that easily, and if he was watching the same game Kuroo was, that must mean that they were playing one of the teams soon so he was doing his ‘homework’ by watching the match. And from the sound of it, they were going to be playing Australia soon, and their libero was a force to be reckoned with.

Kenma waved to Kuroo as he turned at the sound of the door closing and headed into the living room to engage in some much deserved, after-school gaming.

As he sat and pulled out his PSP he tuned out Kuroo’s conversation, it was going to be more of stroking the ace’s ego to try and bring him out of his despair. However, Akaashi had only ever been the one to truly bring Bokuto back from the brink when he got into a funk. So this whole exercise was just going to end in a cycle of futility until Akaashi decided to step in.

A plate had landed on the table in front of Kenma and he glanced up to see a small plate of apple slices, carved into the shape of bunnies, leave Kuroo’s hand. He glanced at Kuroo in confusion but was met with a simple kiss and a quietly mouthed ‘welcome home’ before he gestured to the plate and then went back to watching the game and preening Bokuto through the phone.

Kenma grinned at the memory as he fiddled with his own apple slice. He had wanted to make Kuroo a meal for their anniversary that had all of their favorite foods and foods they had had on dates so far as a testament to how far they had come in the last month. And while Kenma wasn’t as good a cook as Kuroo, not by a long shot, he could still read a recipe and measure things pretty accurately.

He had put together the apple pie, his favorite, and it had just finished a 15-minute cycle at 425 degrees. All that it had left now was another 45 minutes at 350 degrees and it should be ready to hit the table right as they finished dinner. The salted mackerel pike, Kuroo’s favorite, was grilled with perfect cross-stitch marks and was resting as the juices redistributed through the flesh. He had made some of the side dishes they had from their lunch with his parents using seaweed and soba noodles. And he was now attempting to make the same apple bunnies Kuroo had made for him yesterday. But where Kuroo’s had been clean, crisp, and actually looked like bunnies, his were ending up looking like some sort of Jim Henson monstrosity. Give him instructions or a recipe and he could follow them, but incorporate creativity and hand eye coordination that weren’t directly related to video games and he was lost.

The clock above the sink chimed five times. _5 o’clock, Kuroo should be home in 10 minutes!_ Kenma threw down his apple bunny-mutants and grabbed the dishes he needed to set the table. He pulled up a picture of a formal dining setting on his phone and attempted to lay everything out correctly.

Wine glass. Water glass. Forks to the left. Spoons and knives to the right and, _wait, why do the forks get bigger the closer you get to the plate but the spoons get smaller in the same direction?_ He didn’t have time for this. Kuroo would be home any minute and he still had to set the food on the table and light the candles and turn on the playlist he had made for tonight.

He plugged in his phone into their stereo system and flipped it to the first song he ever heard Kuroo sing, _Can’t Help Falling in Love,_ and had it poised so he could easily press play once Kuroo walked in the door.

He set the mackerel, seaweed, and soba noodles on the table, the tang of sulfur notes and burnt wood from the match he had struck to light the candles wafted through the space, and the hum of the oven still baking his pie, _10 more minutes,_ along with the sweet and spicy notes of the apples and cinnamon filled the room.

Kenma heard a key slide into the lock and sprinted to the living room, his finger poised over the play button on his phone.

“Kenma, I’m home. Happy ann-”

Kuroo stopped mid greeting as Kenma pressed the play button and the soft piano and guitar notes filled the small dorm room. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, making sure to pull a couple pieces over the side of his face to give him a little bit of a shield.

Kenma tugged at the tucked edge of his pink button up and adjusted the belt on his crisp black slacks before he rounded the corner of the living room. Kenma was so far out of his comfort zone that he couldn’t even bring himself to look Kuroo in the eyes. His eyes stayed glued to the floor and to the tips of his black, silk socks.

It wasn’t like he _never_ wore nice clothes. His major, and preference, just lent itself to a more relaxed wardrobe of hoodies and jeans. And Kuroo had been a major help in dressing him for the different interviews, real and fake, he had to attend. But, this was the first time he had picked out a nice outfit on his own.

_Does my hair look good? Is the belt too tight? Should I have worn the loafers? But we’re inside, that would be weird to wear shoes past the entryway._

The only sound that traveled through the tiny dorm were the sultry, dulcet tones of Mr. Presley as he crooned about how much he loved the muse he sang to.

_Is the pink too much?_ Kenma fluffed out the front of his shirt again pulling it out about another inch to try and cover the small belly he had going on over the top of his slacks. Sometimes he really missed high school and volleyball. When he could eat like shit and his metabolism and sports were able to compensate for it. And now, the hoodies helped to mask his pooch but he was overly self-conscious about how his body looked now, especially in tighter fitting clothes.

Once the song had hit the second verse, he couldn’t take the suspense anymore and lifted his eyes.

_Holy…_

He couldn’t even see Kuroo behind the enormous mountain of flowers in his arms. His eyes couldn’t track how many different types there were.  Fluffy bursts of blue hydrangeas. Innocent, white roses; some open and large while some were still shy and closed in. Large, ornate white calla lilies, 20 if he counted correctly. Spurts of forest green, where filler plants were placed among the bright, beautiful flowers, stuck out here and there. The beautiful bouquet was set in a grey ceramic pot that complemented the flowers without overpowering them.

Kuroo’s head poked around the bouquet, eyes closed and nose tilted up, sniffing at the air in the small dorm. He was dressed better than Kenma was, in his long sleeved, blood red button down and silk, black slacks.

Actually, they kinda matched. Both in black slacks and shirts that fell into the red color spectrum. _We couldn’t be more ‘couple-y if we tried’._

“Kenma. What is that smell?” Kuroo slowly opened his eyes and took Kenma in from head to toe. “And what are you wearing? Did you… _clean?_ ” he asked as he glanced around what he could see of the dorm. Kenma looked down at his hands as he wrung them together.

“W-well, it _is_ our anniversary and so I thought it would be nice to so something special for it. For you. So, I put on this outfit, even though I’m sure it looks horrible. I cleaned the apartment because I know you like when things are clean, but I’m sure I put things in the wrong place. And I made all our favorite foods and some of the foods we have had on dates kinda to, y’know, celebrate us and how far we’ve come. Or something. But if it’s too much, we can-”

Kenma stopped midsentence as the sounds of shattering ceramic and a wet splash painted the walls of the narrow entrance hall. He looked up just as Kuroo rushed across the small space and took him in his arms, sealing their mouths together.

“Kur… _mmm_ … Kuro, the vase?” He mumbled against Kuroo’s lips.

“ _Nnn nnn._ Don’t care.” Kenma felt his body get pushed backwards until his back met the hallway and Kuroo stepped into the cradle of his body, trapping him against the wall. Kuroo’s hands snaked around his body, one hand holding him in place as the other headed straight down to cup the curve of his ass, squeezing hard.

Kenma’s eyes fluttered shut and brought his hands up to tangle in Kuroo’s hair. He raked his nails gently over his boyfriend’s scalp and was rewarded with a deep, rumbling moan.

The hand that was massaging his ass pulled forward and gripped behind his knee, pulling it up to rest against Kuroo’s hip. The movement opened him up further to allow Kuroo to seat himself more snuggly against Kenma’s body.

He tore his lips away from the kiss as Kuroo ground his hips into him, his cock already half hard and growing thicker with each passing moment. Kuroo’s lips traveled along his jawline and over his throat. He sucked at the pale flesh and as he rutted against Kenma, he bit down at the junction between his neck and shoulder to hold him firmly in place.

“K-Kuro... wait….” Kenma couldn’t breathe, and this was not how this evening had played out in his mind. If this was a typical date, it should go: pleasantries, food, acknowledgment of feelings, then the bedroom. This was skipping to step four though.

“I-I made food. We need to eat before it gets cold, and I have something in the oven.” Kuroo’s lips did wicked things to his body as they traveled up to suck Kenma’s earlobe between teeth, then back down to leave bright hickies as he passed, before he flipped a few buttons open on his shirt to he could tongue and nip along his collarbone.

“But, I’m already eating something delicious. And it seems to be getting hotter, not colder. Wouldn’t you agree, kitten?” Fuck him. Fuck Kuroo and his ability to make him completely loose his mind to the point where he couldn’t even say no anymore.

“Fine.” He speared a hand through Kuroo’s locks and gripped tightly enough to pull his head back up before he sealed their lips together again, his tongue probing at the seam of Kuroo’s lips. Kuroo’s hand that was holding him in place shot down to his other hip and gripped it tightly as he hoisted Kenma up completely off the floor.

Kenma instinctively wrapped his thighs around Kuroo’s waist and they both gasped as the movement brought their cocks in tight against each other. Kenma couldn’t say exactly how Kuroo was feeling, but if it was anything like what he was experiencing, it was driving them both mad.  

His cock was pressed between both their bodies and his slacks glided silkily across his heated flesh. His button down, which was usually soft to the touch, rasped against his nipples and sent shots of pleasure straight to his dick, which jerked in response and only aided to increase the pressure between them.

Kenma couldn’t control the mewling sounds that escaped his throat as he ground his hips down in an attempt to get closer to Kuroo. Closer to what he wanted.

Suddenly, his back was free of the wall’s support and only Kuroo’s hands under his ass and the strength in his own thighs kept him from plummeting to the floor. He didn’t have time to question the turn of events though as Kuroo’s lips found his again and he practically ran across the dorm room.

“W-wait…” Kenma shot out a hand to grip the door jam of Kuroo’s room. At least one part of this evening he wanted to go as planned. “Put me down.” Kuroo didn’t even protest. He did just as Kenma asked without questioning.

Once Kenma’s feet were on the ground again, and he was sure that he wasn’t going to collapse into a puddle of jelly, he grabbed Kuroo’s hand and pulled him towards his room across the small hallway.

As Kenma reached for the doorknob to his room, he took a steadying breath, pulled his hand back to run it through his hair, and then grasped the knob, twisting it open. As he pushed to door into his room, a cloud of warmth bombarded his face. It was stifling and smelled like a flower shop and a bakery had a baby, the notes of vanilla, cinnamon, rose, lavender, and jasmine all vied for attention in his nose.

The room was dimly lit, only the multitude of candles he had lit around the room offering any sort of light. Their soft glow illuminated the room in small circles of dancing, golden light. The bed was crisp, and freshly made with the pillows perfectly fluffed and lined up along the headboard. The floor was clean of all gaming devices and dirty clothes and the curtains had been drawn to block out any additional light source as well as the bustling sounds of a busy campus.

However, the most prominent aspect that the gentle light payed special attention to was the thick trail of red rose petals he had strewn on the floor that formed a trail to his bed. Which had been decorated with succulent, red rose petals as well.

It looked like a setting straight out of a cheesy romance novel. It made it seem like he was trying too hard for tonight to be perfect. But he _did_ want tonight to be perfect. He just didn’t want it to seem like he was trying to make it be perfect and that if it was anything less than perfect tonight was going to be a failure.

He drug Kuroo further into his room and turned slowly until they were facing each other, reaching under Kuroo’s arm to quietly close the door behind them. He dropped Kuroo’s hand and let him take everything in.

He watched as Kuroo’s eyes and head swiveled into every corner of the room. Taking in the fact that Kenma’s room no longer looked like Kenma’s room.

“Babe, did you do all this… for me?” Kuroo’s voice was quiet and full of questioning. Of apprehension. Almost as if he was afraid that this was all a dream and that he was going to wake up and none of this would have been real.

“Well, for us. Yes. I mean, one month is a big deal for us. And I know we were waiting for the right moment, but I was ready to sleep with you from the beginning. But I didn’t want to rush you because it seemed important to you that neither of our intentions got confused. But maybe there is no such thing as a perfectly right moment. Maybe, you just being in the moment with someone you love can make that moment perfect enough. So, I tried to create one for us. So that it would be perfect for you, and that you might feel ready to take that final step with me.” Kenma reached out and took Kuroo’s hands in his, gently rubbing his thumbs across the man’s knuckles.

“If you still don’t feel ready though, I won’t force you. I’m just happy that you finally decided to give me a chance.” He slowly brought each hand up to his face and kissed the backs of Kuroo’s knuckles. “I love you Kuroo.” Kenma felt Kuroo’s hands slip from his grip and cup the sides of his face.

“Kenma,” he whispered as he pushed a small lock of hair out of Kenma’s eyes, “All this time, I was holding back because I didn’t want to rush _you_. And for a guy who doesn’t say much, you really know how to articulate your feelings when you try.” Kuroo chuckled as he gently pressed their lips together once. Twice. Again and again he kissed him, as he slowly walked them both back towards the bed until the backs of Kenma’s legs came up against the mattress.

“But, if you’re sure… Then I won’t hold back anymore.” Kenma reached up to gently push aside Kuroo’s permanent flop of hair so he could see him clearly.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He placed a chaste kiss to Kuroo’s lips and then dropped down to sit on the bed. His fingers trembled as he reached for the buttons on his shirt.

The buttons and his fingers seemed to want to conspire against him in his quest to finally get fucked. He couldn’t get anything to work properly to pop the buttons free of the fabric. He looked down at his chest and tried to wrench the fabric apart, huffing lightly. _Come on, not now._

He stopped the instant the sound of Kuroo chuckling met his ears and whipped his head up in frustration.

“No, no kitten, I’m not laughing at you,” he giggled, “really I’m not. I promise! It’s just,” his cheeks flushed, “You look really cute when you try really hard like that.”

“Well, you could help me y’know.” He huffed as he lowered his hands to brace slightly back from his body on the mattress and leaned back, gently popping his chest forward. He watched Kuroo’s throat roll heavily as he swallowed and took a steadying breath, before he gently pushed Kenma’s thighs farther apart and settled on his knees between them.

“As you wish,” He whispered as he deftly popped the first button free, below the one’s he had already opened in the hallway. His lips finding the side of his throat once more. “Buttercup.”

“Really? Princess Bride, now?” Kenma murmured as his head tiled back on his spine. Kuroo’s tongue traced a path down his throat, across his collarbones, then down to tongue at the skin that was revealed as he popped more buttons free.

“Mmmm…. Maybe.” He gently tugged the tails of Kenma’s shirt free of his pants and finished separating the two sides of his shirt. Kuroo sat up and lightly placed his fingertips against Kenma’s tummy just above the waist of his pants and began to push the sides apart, revealing the small trail of coarse, black hair that started just under his belly button and disappeared down into his pants.

Kenma’s head shot back up as he felt something warm and wet trace the rim of his belly button and slide inside. Kuroo’s tongue didn’t stay for long however. He moved upwards, nosing the sides of his shirt apart and licking a trail up to his chest before he drug one side of his shirt completely off his shoulder and traced the edge of his nipple with his tongue.

Kenma moaned low in his throat and tried to push his chest further forward. He wanted Kuroo’s lips on him, he wanted him to suck at the sensitive flesh. Suck at his tiny, flat nipples until they were puckered and hard. Lick them until they were glossy and slick with saliva. Bite at them until they were sore and bright red.

And Kenma got his wish without having to say a word. Kuroo had been a remarkably quick study in the past month, learning just where to kiss or bite that would have him a quivering puddle of pleasure. But he also had learned where not to lightly trail his fingers and lips, which usually ended up tickling like hell. To which he may or may not have accidentally punched and kicked Kuroo in his attempt to escape the torture.

He gasped as Kuroo gave a wicked suck and tweak combo and Kenma’s hand shot up to tangle in Kuroo’s messy locks to hold his head in place. He felt Kuroo shift and wrap his hands around his hips before he got hauled down into Kuroo’s lap.

Kenma squirmed in his lap as Kuroo’s lips stayed sealed to his nipple, pulsing his lips as he adjusted the pressure in waves against the sensitive nub. He felt a breeze hit his back and arms as Kuroo whipped his bright pink shirt from his body before the corner of his eye caught it flutter to the floor.

Kuroo stood up on his knees, taking Kenma with him and sucked hard enough to have the boy screaming and arching his back. He released the seal of his lips with a lewd pop and without any warning dropped Kenma the short distance back to the bad. Kenma felt the air leave his lungs as he was unceremoniously plopped down onto the mattress, rose petals scattering everywhere.

He panted and swallowed hard as he tried to regain not only the breath in his lungs, but his sanity as well.

  _Fuck,_ his nipples hurt. They throbbed and stung from the rough treatment of Kuroo’s mouth, tongue, and fingers and as they lay wet and exposed to the air. They chilled slightly, sensitizing them further.

The bed dipped and Kenma looked down his body as Kuroo stood and stripped out of his blood red shirt. The silken fabric, first which seemed to have been molded to his form, now slid like fluid over his body. Kenma watched in appreciation as Kuroo’s muscles bunched and rolled with his movements.

Kenma shifted onto his knees and started to crawl in Kuroo’s direction, towards the edge of the bed. He made sure that his movements were slow and exaggerated, especially the sway of his shoulders and hips, as Kuroo watched him. As he reached the edge of the bed, he raised a hand and gently pushed Kuroo back, allowing him room to stand between him and the mattress.

He ran his hands over Kuroo’s muscular form and kissed the parts he could reach. He traced the rounded curves of his shoulders. He tangled his fingers in the smattering of dark hair over the thick, flat pads of his pecs. He drug his fingers through the valleys and hills of his abs before he fingered the waistband of Kuroo’s slacks, popping the buttons free and sliding the zipper down.

Kenma tunneled his hands into Kuroo’s pants, under his boxer briefs, and shifted his hands back and forth to slide the layers of fabric over over his round ass and down his hard thighs. Once he had gotten them down to Kuroo’s knees, he pushed him back to sit on the bed until he was braced back on his elbows.

As he pulled the cloth down Kuroo’s legs, he kissed a path over his hip, down his thigh, his knee, and his shin. He thumbed his own pants apart and shuffled them off his legs until he was only in his white, silk boxers, before he kissed a up path up Kuroo’s other leg.

As he stood between Kuroo’s knees, Kenma surveyed his boyfriend as he lay out like a feast to be devoured. His chest rising and falling faster than normal, his cheeks, chest, and neck slightly flushed, the muscles on his abs and thighs twitching slightly, small silvery lines visible on his hips and shoulders.

Kenma reached out and lovingly traced the small, faint stretch marks with the tips of his fingers.

They had shown up the summer before Kuroo started high school, during his major growth spurt. He remembered how these small lines had been a huge blow to Kuroo’s self-confidence since they were bright red and, as Kuroo had said, “could be seen from space”. He had been so embarrassed of them that he wouldn’t even go to the neighborhood pool for two years because he was afraid he was going to be made fun of.

But now, the marks no longer looked like Moses trying to part the Red Sea. The marks had stopped growing after about a year and had gone from bright red to baby pink before becoming almost skin tone translucent. Kuroo had eventually gotten his confidence back once the more obvious marks had faded.

However, from his vantage point, Kenma could still see the silvery, shallow gouges in Kuroo’s skin as the light from the candles flickered over them. He reached down and picked a succulent, bright red rose petal from the comforter and grasped the edge lightly between his index finger and thumb.

He shuffled to his knees on the bed and straddled Kuro’s thighs as he began to gently run the petal across Kuroo’s body. He whispered the edge of the petal across Kuroo’s nipples and down across his torso, which Kenma was rewarded with a low moan and Kuroo’s fingers digging lightly into the comforter. He licked his lips as he continued to trail the petal down, across Kuroo’s hips and stretch marks before moving in to drag it along the sensitive inside of his thighs. He was able to pick up a small trail of goosebumps on Kuroo’s skin that followed in a perfect path where he had toyed at Kuroo with the rose petal.

Kuroo squirmed under him as he flicked his wrist and began to drag the petal in the opposite direction, heading back up Kuroo’s other thigh and traced lightly over his balls and the underside of his shaft. He watched in fascination and felt his body flush even warmer as Kuroo’s cock jumped hard into the air before smacking back down onto his stomach with a satisfying, heavy thud.

Kenma’s mouth watered as his eyes stayed glued to Kuroo’s heavy, flushed cock as it lay long and hard against his belly. He adored how it curved gently to the left and how the thick vein popped out along the underside the more aroused he got. He loved running his fingers and tongue under the veil that hid Kuroo’s head from view and reveled in the velvety smoothness of running his hands and mouth over the silky flesh.

He pitched the petal to the side and slid off Kuroo’s thighs to kneel on the floor between his knees. He placed his palm against Kuroo’s lower stomach, below his belly button, and using his palm and thumb as leverage, gently popped Kuroo’s erection up into the air.

“Kenm- _ahhh!_ ” As Kuroo had started to call his name, he licked a wide stripe up the underside of Kuroo’s shaft from base to tip, before tilting his head and swallowing him down his throat.

He would never get enough of this. The way Kuroo slid between his lips, his spit coating the hard length enough to have drool dribbled down his chin because he couldn’t keep it in. The way Kuroo moaned his name and various other profanities that shot straight to his dick and had him palming himself in time with the bobbing of his head and other hand. How he tried so hard to stay still and not rush Kenma, but sometimes lost himself by giving small thrusts deep into his throat, playing chicken with his gag reflex.

He felt a sharp tug on the back of his head and his mouth was pried off Kuroo. Spit flooded out of his mouth as he disconnected, leaving clear strings that connected his plump lips to Kuroo’s cock. He panted hard through his teeth, his cheeks flushed and a small bubble of saliva clinging to his bottom lip, as his eyes rolled back in his head at the rough treatment. He had to still and squeeze hard with the hand that was pumping himself to keep from coming.

“I thought…” Kuroo gasped, “I thought we were gonna, you know? Not that this isn’t amazing, _God_ the things you can do with that tongue and those lips…” He released the back of his head and swiped his thumb across Kenma’s bottom lip, smearing the saliva that clung there.

“Y-you’re right. How do you want to do this?” He had been preparing all week for this. H had even bought another vibrator that was a size up from his trusty ‘ol blue’ just for this. If he couldn’t even fit most of Kuroo in his mouth, how was he ever going to fit inside him without two things. One – lots, and _LOTS_ of lube, and two – being as prepared and as stretched as he could be.

He had gone on the internet more times than he could count (and if he ever died he probably should leave a note for Shoyo to completely clear his search history) just to see what he needed to do. All he got in the end was a bunch of contradictory advice.

Some sites said that it wasn’t going to hurt, but only if you prepared enough and were well lubricated. Other sites said that there is pain regardless. Some said that you need to douche _every. single. time_ before sex, and others said that as long as you aren’t squeamish and use a condom then just go ahead. And he couldn’t even begin to list how many positions that were ‘best for first time anal’, he had read. Missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, the curled angel, doggy style.

There were just so many things to take into account and he still didn’t know where to begin, or how to ask what to do.

“Babe!” Kuroo was sitting up in front of him, holding the sides of his face. He must have zoned out and not realized that he had been lost in his own little world of sex positions, tips, and tricks. “If you’re having second thoughts, we don’t have to do this just yet.”

He was tired of waiting though. He huffed lightly and surged to his feet, pushing Kuroo fully down onto the mattress in the process. He lunged for his pillow and tunneled his hand under it to find the bottle of lube he had stashed there for easy access.

He popped the lid off the lube, grabbed Kuroo’s hand and doused his fingers in the slick fluid before straddling Kuroo once more, directly over his cock and placed them against his entrance.

“No, I’m not having second thoughts. Now stretch me.” He watched Kuroo’s eyes go wide as dinner plates and gasped as he felt gentle, but firm pressure circle his rim. The coolness of the lube made his cheeks clench and his hips pump lightly forward, grinding their cocks together.

They both gasped at the friction and Kuroo took the opportunity to slip into Kenma’s entrance. He stopped though once his hand bottomed out at his palm when he met almost imperceptible resistance.

“You feel different.” He commented as he withdrew his finger and slide in another alongside the first, testing the resistance.

“Yeah, I – _nnng_ ” he moaned as Kuroo began to pump in and out of his hole, his fingers giving long, fluid drags against his prostate as his knuckles teased at the sensitive rim. “I was planning for this. So, so I made sure to properly prepare for it.” He felt Kuroo’s pumping stutter at the confession and then pick up their pace, this time three fingers deep.

He was going mad. Kuroo had fingered him countless times already and it usually felt pretty good, especially if he found Kenma’s prostate early on. However, he knew what the end goal was today and his body must have known too because it just wasn’t enough. Kuroo’s fingers weren’t wide enough. They didn’t go deep enough. He needed more.

Kenma’s hand trembled as he reached back to grip Kuroo’s wrist. He wanted to keep going, wanted have Kuroo’s fingers keep plunging into his body and stretch him out. But he knew what he really wanted. He gripped Kuroo’s wrist, stilling the drugging effect of their pumping and withdrew them slowly from his body.

He felt his hole clench at the loss of being filled as he shifted fully onto his knees. He grabbed the bottle of lube and shuffled down Kuro’s thighs, making a point to drag his cock against Kuroo’s, smearing the small puddle of precum, that had oozed out of his slit as Kuroo had toyed with his prostate, down the hard length under him.

As he stared down at Kuroo, eyes hooded, cheeks flushed, chest heaving, he almost couldn’t believe that this was it. They were finally going to do this.

He upturned the already open bottle into his palm and only meant to squeeze out a quarter sized amount to slick Kuroo up, but ended up pouring out almost the entire small bottle into his palm as Kuroo wrapped his broad palm around both of their cocks. He tried desperately to keep the lube from overflowing his hand but dropped the bottle in the process and watched in horror as the rest of the contents spilled out and soaked into the comforter.

“Damnit Kuroo.” He pouted. His palms, now cupped together to keep the lube from seeping out, trembled as Kuroo continued to pump them together.

“Sorry kitten, I’ll make it up to you.” With his other hand, Kuroo reached up and scooped out some of the lube in Kenma’s palms and dribbled it over his other hands and fingers as he continued to stroke. The pressure was just how he liked, firmer on the upstroke versus the downstroke and concentrating the pressure and friction at the tip.

He felt fluid seep out between his palms and splatter down onto Kuroo’s stomach and his brain scrambled to decide what to focus on. The delicious, smooth friction and pressure that was shooting tendrils of pleasure down his cock and into his spine, or the knowledge that he was wasting the lube they needed in order to make tonight an enjoyable, less painful experience. At least from his end.

Kenma gritted his teeth until his jaw cracked and pulled his hips back, slipping his cock from Kuroo’s grip. Kuroo’s index finger rubbed hard over the ridge of his head and he had to bite the inside of his cheek as his eyes rolled back in his head and he attempted to keep the orgasm that was gripping his balls at bay.

He sat on Kuroo’s thighs, his body vibrating with unfulfilled energy, heavy pants passing through his nose and lungs. It was so hot, but it had to have been his own body temperature that was jacking up as a result of the pleasure rushing through his veins.

He almost pitched back onto the floor, but was stopped by Kuroo’s hands around his waist, the taller man leaning down to the floor to pick up his slacks.

“Here, we don’t need all that and I honestly don’t have the patience to put it back in the bottle. I’ll buy more tomorrow.” Kenma nodded as he slowly upturned one of his hands onto the fine silk of Kuroo’s pants. He would have to pay to get them dry-cleaned later, lube just didn’t come out of silk, _did it?_

He split what was left in his other hand between his palms and motioned for Kuroo to lay back against the bed. Once he was flat, he gently upturned his hand over Kuroo’s hard length and gave a few gentle strokes at the flesh. His hands were smaller than average and by no means petite, but he still could barely wrap his fingers fully around Kuroo and have them touch each other. He watched Kuroo’s eyelids flutter shut and his hips give gentle pulses into his hand as he reached behind himself and used the rest of the lube to coat his hole. He was already lubed up from Kuroo’s fingers, but it couldn’t hurt to make sure he was ready.

He retracted his hands and scooted forward until his sat directly over Kuroo’s cock before he leaned down, his hair falling forward and skimming the edges of Kuroo’s cheeks.

“Ready?” He whispered as he placed a slow, languid kiss to Kuroo’s lips.

“Well, um, I did want to ask you something first.” Kenma pulled back und braced his palms against the bed, slipping a little as the lube transferred from his palms to the sheets. _Really? You have a question NOW!?_

“Okay…” he drug the last syllable out a little longer than necessary.

“No, no! I definitely want to do this. No doubt! I was just wondering that since you haven’t been with anyone and I have,” Kenma pulled back and flicked him across the forehead.

“Really, you remind me of that now?”

“Wait, sorry, this is coming out wrong.” He took a deep breath and started again. “I guess I was wondering if you wanted to, to t-top. That way it could be a first time for both of us. You know, together. At the same time, or whatever.”

He hadn’t considered this. He had just assumed, based on his build and the fact that he didn’t enjoy expending more energy than was necessary, that he would naturally be the bottom. Thus, he had done all his research on bottoming techniques and tips and everything. He never, in a million years would have considered topping Kuroo.

Not that it was out of the question, and now that the idea had planted itself like a little tic tac in his brain, he could already feel the roots starting to grow and fan out as they took hold. The idea itself was rather intriguing to say the least. Kuroo splayed out under him just like this, but instead, he would be the one to plunge into Kuroo’s body instead of the other way around.

But, he had prepared so much for this night and he wanted to feel Kuroo inside him. So, he filed the idea away for a later date, one they would hopefully revisit soon.

“No, it’s okay. Maybe next time.” He replied, his face heating up as he blushed furiously. This seemed to appease Kuroo as his shoulders relaxed and he leaned up to kiss Kenma. He pulled back from Kuroo’s lips and helped him settle his broad palms against his hips before he sat up as straight as he could.

He wiggled his hips to get a feel of where Kuroo’s cock was, since he couldn’t see it from where he sat. He rose to his knees and reached behind himself to stand Kuroo up. But, it was quickly realized that he had, in fact, used too much lube in the end.

He could barely grasp Kuroo long enough before he slipped between his fingers, and even if he did manage to hold onto him long enough, there wasn’t enough friction for him to catch on his rim to even try sliding in. This was so much more difficult than just using his fingers or his vibrator. At least those things had some rigidity and inflexibility that allowed him to slide them into his body with relative ease. Kuroo though was softer, and was essentially a water snake wiggly toy that had some structure, but not to the point of being inflexible. It easily slipped from his grasp and would bend to the side when he tried to force it to do his bidding.

It was maddening.

He threw out a hand on Kuroo’s stomach and tried to twist around to see what exactly the problem was and how to fix it. But even as he almost bent in half to try and get a better angle, he still couldn’t figure out how to get part A into slot B.

He felt tears well behind his eyes. Here he was, sensitive and on edge, his body on fire and drenched in lube, and he still couldn’t get them past the starting gate. He couldn’t even see the finish line now.

“Hey, Kenma.” Kuroo cooed from underneath him. He felt his broad hands travel up to his shoulders and tilt his chin back around to face him. He tilted back to sit on Kuroo’s hips, his cock sliding up between his cheeks, as Kuroo leaned forward and kissed every spot on his face he could reach: his eyes, his nose, his ears, and finally his lips, as his arms roamed his back and arms. The combination helped calm his racing heart and trembling body.

“There better?” He asked as he pressed their foreheads together, their breathes mingling and fluttering across his cheeks. He gave a quiet groan in response and felt Kuroo wrap an arm around his weight to lift him back up to his knees. “Here, let me help.”

Kuroo reached down and wrapped his broad palm around himself to make him stand up. Kenma leaned his head back and stretched his arm back, never breaking eye contact with Kuroo’s warm, honeyed eyes, and placed his palm against the underside of Kuroo’s cock. As he felt Kuroo line up with his entrance, he felt their fingers graze each other and intertwine slightly as they worked together to guide him into Kenma’s entrance.

He gasped as he felt the head of Kuroo’s cock begin to breech his body. The sensation was familiar and yet at the same time, completely foreign as he felt the white-hot burn of his body being stretched further than it had ever been before sink down past his bones and into his soul. His hips stopped their descent, the head of Kuroo’s cock just past his entrance and lodged in the tight ring of muscle, as he whimpered and panted short stuttering breathes through his nose.

“K-Kuro… _nnngh._ ” Kenma tried to contain his voice as much as he could, not wanting to let Kuroo find out that this was turning out to be more painful than he had originally anticipated. Everything had been going so well and he wasn’t about to ruin it now by not being able to bear something he knew was going to be a potentially uncomfortable first-time experience. 

 Kenma scrambled his hands forward onto Kuroo’s stomach to steady himself as his thighs began to tremble and threatened to give out. He knew if he could just relax then everything would go smoother. But the pressure was so intense, it was becoming too much, he didn’t know if he could-

“Baby!” Kenma jumped, not just at the shout, but at the hands that gripped his ass harshly, holding him aloft.

“What-, how-, _ahh!_ ” he stifled a sob as he shifted on top of Kuroo, which pushed him a bit further into Kenma’s warmth, spreading lighting bolts of heat and pain out from his ass and into his limbs. His fingers and toes even tingled like they were asleep and were filled with pins and needles..

“Baby, you need to breathe!” Kenma felt broad hands massage the muscles of his ass, keeping him from dropping down further before he was ready, as Kuroo whispered words of reassurance into the space between them. He whimpered at Kuroo’s ministrations aimed at calming his racing heart. 

 His eyes bounced around the room, trying to give his mind something else to focus on, finally landing on Kuroo’s arm. Since he was holding Kenma up, all his muscles stood out in stark relief against his skin. His eyes traced the way they rounded out his shoulders, the same tiny, silvery streaks flowing over his shoulders, just like the ones on his hips. How his biceps corded and bunched up as they contracted. Even his forearms pulled up into the crook of his elbows from the force of holding him.

He felt his body relax slightly as his eyes continued to take stock of all the parts of Kuroo that he could see. He pushed back gently against Kuroo’s hands to try and sink lower onto his boyfriend’s cock, but yelped as the pressure built again.

“No, no, no.” Kuroo stymied his attempt to push down by readjusting his grip under his ass, moving his hands from between Kenma’s thighs to wrap around the outside of his hips. “Just stay right there. Get used to it.” Kenma swallowed hard, as he felt trails of sweat drip down his back and chest. He took deep drags of air into his lungs rapidly. _Calm down._

As he continued to breathe, he focused on how Kuroo’s thumbs rubbed small circles into his hips and ass. He hung his head, his hair falling into his face and-

_What?_

His eyes had been focusing on the rise and fall of Kuroo’s abs when he had caught sight of himself and realized… he had gone soft. He hadn’t even considered this outcome. The pain, he was expecting. The intensity, he could eventually handle. But… this?

_Fuck_. He had ruined everything. All the time and preparation he had put in to make this night special and memorable for the both of them, and now he wasn’t even hard. His dick had shriveled back to almost completely flaccid and just dangled in midair, not even long enough to touch Kuroo’s stomach because he was still being held aloft.

He felt tears build behind his eyes and couldn’t bring himself to look at Kuroo, who was probably disgusted with him and just didn’t want to say it. He felt a tear leak out and drip down the side of his nose before it splattered against Kuroo’s stomach.  

“Hey, no, no, It’s okay Kenma!” Kuroo’s hands released him and went everywhere at once as he tried to reassure the small setter that everything was indeed okay. Kenma’s hands flew out to brace himself against Kuroo’s stomach once again to keep himself up now that he wasn’t being supported.

“I-I’m so sorry, Kuroo.” He mumbled, “I wanted tonight to be special, and-and now I’ve r-ruined it.”

“Baby, you haven’t ruined anything! Why would you say that?”

“B-because!,” He sobbed, “I tried so hard, but it hurts so much and now I’m s-soft and you probably think I’m disgusting and want me to stop because-”

“Kenma.” He abruptly stopped ranting as Kuroo’s voice dipped low and took on a commanding edge. He gasped and his body shuddered as Kuroo pulled him completely off his length and settled him against his hips. The burn was still there, but thankfully it was less now that his body wasn’t trying to accommodate Kuroo’s length. “Let’s get one thing straight, you never have and never will be disgusting to me. No matter what.” Kenma wanted to believe him so badly.

“I love everything about you,” he whispered as he pushed Kenma’s hair off his face and behind his ear. “I could never be disgusted with you. You playing video games? Adorable. You playing volleyball and being my setter? Totally hardworking. You staying up late to design a new game? Amazing. You cooking me dinner and cleaning the house? So adorably domestic and I wish I could have been here to see it!” Kenma sniffed to clear the tears from his eyes, which had receded slightly from the praise.

“You lying on a bed of roses and saying that tonight is the night?” Kenma flinched, _here it comes._ “So unbelievably hot.” Kenma blinked down at him. “You telling me that you prepped and _wanted_ to bottom from the start? Erotic as hell.” Kenma’s mouth fell open as he panted and watched Kuroo’s skin darken and his skin flush a rosy pink. Kenma gasped as Kuroo gently pushed his hips up, dragging his cock between his slippery cheeks.

“Okay, so you accidentally dropped the lube and spilled it all over the bed.” _Shit._ “And, so what if you’re soft now?” _fuck._ “I don’t care! Well, I mean I care, but I don’t care. Honestly, I’m more worried that you were in pain and you didn’t tell me. Seriously, are you okay?”   

He wanted to cry all over again. Kuroo was so nice, and understanding, and perfect. He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes, his heart considerably lighter than it was before.

“Yes, I’m okay.” He murmured, leaning forward and pressing his nose into Kuroo’s hair. He breathed in deeply, allowing Kuroo’s musky scent to seep into his bones. His body was still hot and he was already covered in sweat, but he was relaxing, his blood slowing in his veins as his heart calmed. “I promise.”

“Thank god!” Kuroo whispered as he hugged Kenma down to his chest tightly. “I was so worried I had hurt you. I never want to hurt you kitten.” He picked his head up from Kuroo to try and get a breath in as Kuroo squeezed his ribcage. “At least not unless you asked me to.”

Kenma pulled back to look down at Kuroo in disbelief as he waggled his eyebrows up at him. “I mean, I really want to make sure you’re okay, but it’s getting really hard when all I want to do right now is pound into you until we’re both sore and can’t think straight!” Kuroo’s hands left his hips and trailed up his chest to thumb and gently pinch at his overly sensitive nipples.

“Yes, Kuroo.” He drug out the last syllable as he threw his head back and pushed his chest out as he grinded back against Kuroo’s cock, the hard length slipping between his cheeks and grazing against his entrance.

“And I guess that works because since we’re together that means we aren’t strictly hetero and can’t think completely straight anyway!” Kuroo grinned up at him and chuckled. Kenma couldn’t keep the laughs from erupting from his body.

He wrapped his arms around his body, clutching at his sides as deep, full body, belly laughs left his lips. He gasped for air as the laughs bled into choking sobs.

“Come here.” Kuroo cooed at him as he gestured for him to lean down towards him as he sat up. Kuroo met him halfway and kissed him reverently, the cushion of his lips and slide of Kuroo’s tongue between them a balm to soothe his bruised ego and mind.

“You are so beyond gorgeous, and beautiful, and sexy, and perfect.” He punctuated each phrase between kisses. “I can’t even put into words how much I love you and how much you turn me on Kenma.”  Kuroo nibbled at his lips and trailed kisses along his jaw before slicking a path up his neck and sucking at the tender flesh under his ear. Kenma shivered at the pleasure as Kuroo continued to murmur soft words of encouragement and praise in his ear. He was losing his mind fast.

“Kenma, look.” Kuroo whispered and gestured with his chin for him to look down, and to his surprise, and utter relief, he was hard again. His cock twitched at the realization between his and Kuroo’s stomachs.

“Do you want to try again?” Kuroo questioned. His voice held nothing that would suggest that he would be disappointed either way that Kenma decided. He would be fine if Kenma wanted to try again, but he wouldn’t be disappointed if he wanted to call it quits for the night. He leaned forward and kiss him, before resting his forehead against Kuroo’s.

“Mmhmm,” he whimpered, his sweat-slicked forehead sliding against Kuroo’s as he shuffled back until he was leaned up against the headboard and Kenma was flush against his lap. Kuroo’s mouth sought his out once again.

Kenma moaned into the push of Kuroo’s plump, slick lips against his own, gasping lightly as he felt the head of Kuroo’s cock kiss his entrance. He adjusted his knees on either side of Kuroo and stood up on them as he felt Kuroo’s hand snake between his legs and hold his length upright and steady. Ready for him to try again.  

He could do this. Kuroo loved him, and he loved Kuroo. He wanted to be with him. To be claimed and marked by him on every inch of his body. Inside and out. He wanted to be filled, not just by Kuroo’s cock, but by his essence. So full that even his pores held Kuroo’s scent within his body. He wanted every movement tomorrow to remind him of this night.

He pulled back slightly from Kuroo and opened his eyes so that he held the man’s gaze. The eye contact was intense. A small part of him bubbled up that it almost seemed confrontational in nature. _Run. Pull back. Escape._

He squashed his inner fear and pushed through the anxiety. He adjusted until he felt Kuroo’s cock catch on his rim and slowly sank down onto his length.

_He would never hurt me._

The burn was back. Not as intense as before, but still uncomfortable. His body tried to accommodate the intrusion while at the same time resisting it.

_He loves me._

Kuroo’s thumb caressed his hip as his jaw dropped open, shallow puffs passing between his teeth.

_I love this man._

Tendrils of sensation sparked out down into his hips and thighs and down to the tip of his cock as it twitched in midair.

_Breathe. Just breathe._

Kenma took a long inhale through his nose and pushed it out of his lungs, like he was blowing out the candles on his birthday cake. His only wish that he and Kuroo could finally, _finally_ , be joined together with nothing between them. No more barriers of misunderstood feelings, or past lovers, or insecurities. Nothing, but skin on skin contact and the closeness of shared breath.

Kenma felt his body relax further and as he continued to slowly lower himself, he felt Kuroo’s head breech past the tight ring inside him and he bottomed out without any more resistance. His ass flush against Kuroo’s hips.

Kenma’s eyes rolled shut and his head tilted back fractionally on his spine. _Yes. Thank God._ He did it. He had been able to push past all his inner shit and he now had what he had always wanted.

He felt a quiet chuckle leave his lips and the barest hint of a smile pull at the edges of his mouth as he tilted his head forward so he could kiss Kuroo senseless. But that all vanished in an instant when he saw the tears streaming down Kuroo’s face.

It was only then that he realized that Kuroo’s hands were gripping his hips so hard he was going to have bruises and Kuroo’s hips were trembling under his so hard it almost unseated him. His eyes were scrunched closed so hard his eyebrows almost touched his cheeks and he was panting harshly now instead of the gentle puffs of before.

Kuroo was in pain. And it was all his fault.

“K-Kuro? Wh-what’s wrong?” His hands flew up and cradled Kuroo’s face in his small hands, his thumbs swiping at the tears that tumbled down his cheeks. “I’m sorry. How can I fix it? Tell me-”

“ _NO!_ ” Kuroo grated out, his voice heavy, and rough, and laced with emotion. His eyes peeled open and his grip loosened on Kenma’s hips.  “Baby, you d-did nothing wrong. I just… it feels…”

It seemed Kuroo was struggling for the right words.

“You just feel so _good_ , Kenma. I just, I can’t.... _nnng!_ ” Kenma felt his cheeks flush brighter at the praise. He wanted to reciprocate Kuroo’s feelings. Just flat out tell him that the feeling of being impaled on Kuroo’s cock was the best thing he had ever experienced. He was so full and he felt truly marked.

Taken.

Owned.

“You… too” was all he could manage to mutter out though. He wanted to tell him more. It was right on the tip of his tongue. But, right now he was too raw and exposed to truly get the words out.

Kenma gently pulled Kuroo’s face to his, letting his actions speak for him. He slowly adjusted his knees under his hips and began to rise up. He felt Kuroo’s arms tighten around his torso as the drag of Kuroo’s cock inside his body caused his thighs to tremble and his fingers to flex into the thick pads of Kuroo’s shoulders.

Once he felt Kuroo catch just shy of his rim, he allowed his muscles to go lax and let gravity drop him back down over Kuroo’s length. A guttural moan bubbled up from his toes and between his lips as he bottomed out once again.

Kenma’s chest heaved from exertion, puffs of air leaving his lips and ruffling the tips of Kuroo’s hair around his eyes. He reached a hand up, pushing the bunch of hair off Kuroo’s face and tunneling his fingers through the sweat slicked mop until he found a decent grip at the back of Kuroo’s skull. Kenma pulled him forward so that all he could see were the deep, honeyed depths of Kuroo’s eyes and rocked his hips forward as he started a slow, steady rhythm.

His body tingled and burned everywhere, from the small pools of sweat that were gathering behind his knees as he moved, to the rasp in his throat and in his lungs as if they were unable to pull down enough oxygen to keep his brain from fuzzing out, to the sweet, mind numbing burn of being impaled and stretched around Kuroo’s cock that he wanted to openly weep at the intensity of it all.

And Kenma would have been perfectly content to fuck himself on top Kuroo until his lungs and legs gave out. At least, he would have been… until Kuroo surged up and tapped against the spot that had him seeing stars and shot him straight up to his knees, pulling Kuroo completely from his body on a strangled cry at least two octaves higher than his normal speaking voice.

“Kur- _AH!_ ” He didn’t have time to rationalize what had happened before Kuroo was holding his hips in an iron grip and forcing him back down on his cock, while thrusting his hips up to meet Kenma’s body more than halfway.

Kenma wound his arms around Kuroo’s shoulders and held on. It was all he could do; all his brain could process as Kuroo ruthlessly pounded into his body and against his prostate. His cock leaked pre-come like a sieve as he sunk his teeth into the side of Kuroo’s neck, his strong, heavy pulse pounding between his teeth and against his tongue.

His head was roughly tugged away from Kuroo’s neck, a sharp, wide, sweet pain radiating out from where Kuroo had gripped the back of his head and held it out, bent back on his spine. A small trail of drool escaping the side of his mouth as he panted.

Before he could crack his eyes, he felt Kuroo pull from his body and take every ounce of breath with him, and then his back was hitting the mattress, the pillows and flower petals bouncing to the floor with the force of his body connecting with the comforter.

Kuroo scrambled to fill the space between his hips, wrenching his thighs further apart before slamming home. Kenma’s head snapped back on his spine, his chest and back popping off the mattress and his palms flying up to brace against the head board as his body was scooted up the bed in time with Kuroo’s thrusts.

“Me…” Kuroo growled into the side of his neck.

“ _Mmm?_ ” Kenma moaned as he pried his eyes open.

“ _Hold …on … to me_!” Kuroo grunted, each syllable punctuated with a brutal slam of his hips into Kenma.  He wasn’t going to last much longer, not with the way Kuroo felt so perfect inside him. Not with the way he drug long and hard against his prostate. Not with the way Kuroo was murmuring encouragements against his flushed skin.

He didn’t want this to end. Too long he had waited just for this and if he didn’t slow it down it was going to be over too soon.

Kenma gingerly pulled one hand off the headboard and braced it against Kuroo’s shoulders, stilling him instantly. He reached up his opposite hand, cupping the side of Kuroo’s face before pulling him down gently to meet his lips. Kenma pushed the tip of his tongue out and teased at the seam of Kuroo’s mouth, sending a full body shiver through the taller man as he slipped his tongue between Kuroo’s plump lips.

Kenma planted his heels into the comforter and lifted his hips smoothly, fucking himself up against Kuroo. The feeling of Kuroo impaling him pulled Kenma from Kuroo’s mouth and had him dropping his head to the pillow as he slowly raised his hips again, picking up a slow, heavy rhythm.

Kuroo pushed off of Kenma, bracing himself on his hands as he watched the small bundle of perfection continued to raise and lower his hips. He felt Kuroo’s hand gently trail up his arm, his nails scraping lightly, before traveling across his chest and over his abdomen.

“So beautiful…” Kenma’s hips stuttered and fell still as Kuroo spoke, becoming more self-conscious at the verbal encouragement. “Kenma, you are so beautiful and the evidence of how much I love you is blatantly obvious on your body.”

Kuroo leaned up on his knees before continuing, “Your lips, bright red and plump from my kisses,” Kuroo leaned forward and nibbled at his lips, “Your nipples, peaked and shiny from my tongue and fingers,” Kenma gasped and felt Kuroo twitch deep inside him as Kuroo laved at one nipple while he tweaked the other between his thumb and forefinger.

“Your cock, hard and slick with precum as I pound into your hot, welcoming body,” Kenma felt his eyes roll back in his head and his lungs dry up as Kuroo rolled his hips into his, hard and slow. He felt a small gurgle of precum slide from the head of his cock as Kuroo slid against his prostate, a chocked cry escaping his lips as a tear slid down the side of his temple and soaked into the pillow.

“Hey, you okay?” Kuroo pulled back and started futzing with his body, wiping the tears away and rubbing his arms gently. How was he supposed to verbalize how good Kuroo made him feel when just listening to Kuroo’s words had almost made him cum like a teenager. “Kenma, talk to me. Did I hurt you?”

A pang of guilt sliced through Kenma’s mind as he saw the panicked expression on Kuroo’s face. He gently reached down, his fingers ghosting across his abdomen and pressing down over where he could feel the tip of Kuroo’s cock deep inside his body and gave a small pulse up with his hips. Kuroo’s elbows gave out and he had to catch himself before his body squished Kenma.

“G-good,” Kenma popped his hips again, feeling Kuroo rub against the palm of his hand through his belly. “So good, Kuroo.” He pushed the tips of his fingers through Kuroo’s short locks with his free hand, and pulled roughly at the base of his skull to force his face back so he could properly see him.

“Now,” he peeled his palm off his abdomen and wrapped it around the back of Kuroo’s neck, fully prepared to hold on for dear life, once Kuroo started moving again, “Fuck me, Kuroo. Fuck me till I break.”

He swore he could have felt the last strands of Kuroo’s self-control snap under Kuroo’s skin where he was wrapped around him. Kuroo’s eyes flashed hot and bright as he reached his arms down and braced the back of Kenma’s knees against his biceps and propped Kenma’s hips slightly off the bed, almost bending his body in half.

“Hold on tight then, kitten.” Kenma’s arms flexed as he held on tightly to Kuroo’s neck, his back protesting the change in position, his lower body completely open and exposed.

Kuroo swung his hips hard and drove his cock deep into Kenma’s body, so deep that if Kenma hadn’t had a basic understanding of the human body he could have sworn Kuroo had lodged himself all the way up into his throat.

His body was a live wire, just waiting for the flip of a switch or a quick spark to set him completely on fire. He dug his blunt nails into the hard flesh of Kuroo’s shoulders and attempted to wrap his ankles around his back for traction.

Kuroo was pushed back just enough so he could look directly into Kenma’s eyes. And while every instinct in his body told Kenma to look away, avoid the obvious confrontation, there was a fire, a command in their depths that almost dared him to look away, dared him to break the intense connection that promised to take him to the edge of paradise and then toss his unworthy ass into the unknown. A land that held the promise of sliding down rainbows, and fireworks that were loud and bright enough to shake him all the way to his core.

He wanted that more than air, more than food, more than video games. He wanted to always know this feeling, of being filled and taken by the one he loved more than he could express. But the cool tingle on the back of his thighs followed by the way his lower back contracted and felt strung out ever few thrusts and how his toes curled in on themselves, he knew he was close.

He tilted his head to the side, keeping his sight trained on Kuroo out of the side of his eyes as he bared the pale, delicate column of his throat to him. Kuroo finally broke the strange hold he had on Kenma as he bent low to lick a wide, wet stripe up along his neck.

Kenma moaned as one of Kuroo’s hands came up and as he slipped three fingers past his lips, slicking them up with enough spit that they left a snail trail from his mouth down to his chest when he roughly pulled them from the warmth of Kenma’s mouth, before he trailed them down and wrapped them around his throbbing cock.

Kenma couldn’t breathe. His lungs were being compressed under the crushing weight of Kuroo’s body holding his in an awkward position. The back of his legs protested as the were now up around Kuroo’s shoulders and he wasn’t used to stretching so far that he could almost kiss the tops of his own feet. And the combination of Kuroo’s cock pounding into his prostate while his hand pulled along his dick, focusing pressure and friction around his head, made his eyes cross and roll back in his head.

“C-close, more. Please!” Kenma panted as Kuroo’s thrusts became erratic, having no discernable rhythm aside as his movements became shallower and quicker. Kenma could feel it, the tight ball of nerves deep in his stomach was wound as tight as it could go, he just needed a bit more. A little bit longer and _oh fuck, right there!_

His voice keened off the walls and if he wasn’t so lost in the feeling of Kuroo, he would be mortified that the neighbors would be able to hear him. His hands scrambled to get better purchase on Kuroo’s shoulders as he used them as leverage to meet his thrusts.

“Kenma!” He growled out his name as he bit down at the juncture where Kenma’s neck met his shoulders and he came hard over Kuroo’s hand and his own stomach. He saw a flash of white and felt all the muscles in his lower body contract in pulsing waves, clenching around Kuroo’s cock as it continued to slide in and out of his body. Kuroo’s hand never stopped moving, milking him until the final crest of his orgasm subsided and he was starting to fall into oversensitivity.

Kuroo’s breathing was hard in his ear and Kenma could tell he was close. He wanted to do something for Kuroo, like he had done for him. Give him some sort of final push over the edge with just a motion, a position, a word.

Kuroo was still engaged in the side of his neck so he wasn’t able to turn his head very far, but he was able to shuffle his neck around until his lips were close enough to Kuroo’s ear to whisper, “Come for me… Tetsuro.”

Kuroo released his neck and threw his head back as Kenma felt warmth fill his insides. He realized now that he had forgotten to grab out the condom he had stashed next to the lube, but he couldn’t care less in that moment. The way the long muscles punched out along Kuroo’s neck as his jaw dropped open and he released a vicious shout that shook the very headboard behind his head. The way his cock continued to jerk and how he slowly pumped his hips into Kenma, milking himself dry. The understanding that he had been the one to give Kuroo so much pleasure and satisfaction that he was now painting the insides of his body with that pleasure. Kenma wouldn’t have traded a single second for the world.

Kuroo’s arms gave out and he collapsed on top of Kenma, a small puff leaving his lungs as he became sandwiched between the bed and Kuroo’s sweaty, exhausted body.

“K-kuro, my legs hurt.” Kenma squeaked as his knees almost hit the bed next to his head.

“Shit, sorry.” Kuroo grumbled as he groggily got to his elbows and knees above Kenma. He peeled his eyes open and stared down at Kenma with eyes that were clouded with slaked lust and potent with satisfaction.  He leaned down and smothered Kenma with gentle kisses. Over his temples, his eyelids, his nose, and lingered on his lips, almost as if he was putting every ounce of love he had for the man into those kisses, so Kenma would never forget how much he was treasured.

How much he was completely and utterly loved.

The air was thick in the room and now it was harder to breathe for a whole new reason. He realized that all the candles were still lit, and the room now felt like a thousand degrees. It was suffocating and highly uncomfortable as he came down for the most perfect high he had ever experienced.

“Kuro, I feel gross.” He whined as he tried to lift his arms to allow more air to circulate his body.

“Oh, thanks babe. All that hard work to make sure this was perfect for both of us and you end up feeling gross.” Kenma could feel Kuroo’s softening length begin to slip from his body as Kuroo chuckled deep and hung his head.

He squirmed at the new sensation, his body contracting to try and keep Kuroo inside him even though his mind was screaming _Ew, ew, ew. Squishy. Gross. Get it out._

“ _Mmmm,_ it’s not that. I’m sweaty, and have cum all over me and you, uh, you’re-” Kenma felt his cheeks heat once more as he glanced down to trace a fingertip through the sparse hairs on Kuroo’s chest. Kuroo noticed how Kenma was fidgeting and after a moment, gave a small chuckle and leaned up onto his knees, resting his hands atop Kenma’s knees.

“I know, I know. Let’s get you feeling a bit more comfortable then.” Without warning, Kuroo pulled the rest of the way from Kenma’s body. He gave a whimper at the loss, but at least he was indeed a bit more comfortable now.

 He gave a shuddering, deep breath and Kenma’s eyes fluttered open as he felt Kuroo’s lips seal to his.

“I love you, Kenma.”

“Me too.” He returned a quick peck to Kuroo’s lips. “But, it literally feels like we have been thrown into the fires of Mt. Doom. I’m dying.” He made a point to wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand before heaving a big sigh and sitting up on his elbows, taking a moment to peel a few rose petals off his sweaty arms and thighs.

“Well, that’s what you get for lighting enough candles to light up all of Tokyo during a blackout. You goob!” Kuroo shuffled off the bed and switched on the ceiling fan and popped the window open to circulate the air. Kenma hung his head back and breathed deep, trying to get any sort of cool air into his lungs.

After a minute, Kuroo began wiping Kenma’s chest with his discarded shirt to soak up a small pool of sweat that had collected over his sternum.

“But you know, I would have gone with you to the end. Into the very fires of Mordor.” A small smirked pulled at the edges of Kuroo’s face, and Kenma flopped back down onto the bed with a groan.

“Stop with the movie references already. They’re cheesy.” His hand scuffled across the disheveled comforter, reaching for his phone on the night stand.

“Kenma, you know I am like 60% cheese, both of the food and comical variety.” Kuroo handed the sweaty shirt to Kenma so he could finish wiping his body down, before getting up to start blowing out some of the candles.

Kenma watched Kuroo’s back as he traveled around the room. His own ministrations half-hearted as he watched Kuroo’s muscles bunch and release under his skin, a sensuous motion that had his belly heating again. He was so engrossed in Kuroo, that he didn’t notice that Kuroo had stopped to sniff the air.

“Huh, we must really be in Mordor, because I think I smell Gollum burning.”

“What are you-” _SHIT! The pie!_

“Pie!” Kenma practically screamed as he quickly vaulted off the bed, only to stop dead once his feet hit the floor. His knees felt like jelly and his hips shook as he struggled to stay standing. His whole lower body throbbed and he felt a hot trail of fluid trickle down the backs of his legs.

Kenma looked down between his knees and was mortified as he watched Kuroo’s cum leak from his ass to coat the backs of his thighs and knees in clear, viscous trails. He flinched hard as he felt Kuroo’s hands graze his hips as he sank down behind Kenma.

“Kuroo, what are you- _ah!_ ” Kenma’s brain fizzed out as he felt Kuroo’s tongue glide up the back of his thighs, effectively cleaning up the mess he had made dribble down Kenma’s legs. His fingers swiped at the sensitive inside of his thighs, to catch the small trails that had escaped his lips.

As Kuroo’s tongue trailed further up his legs, Kenma could feel his knees shaking harder and harder. He reached down to try and push at Kuroo’s head before it reached the soft underside of his ass.

“Kuroo… p-pie…” Kenma panted, his eyes hooded as they locked with Kuroo’s.

“Let me taste this one first.” Kenma threw his head back and gripped tight to Kuroo’s hair as he felt the warm, slick glide of his tongue over his hole. His knees could no longer hold his weight and buckled under him.

Which would have sent him to the floor if Kuroo hadn’t snaked his arms around Kenma’s waist to hold him to his mouth. Kuroo’s tongue swiped over Kenma’s entrance again and again. Teasing at the recently loosened ring of muscle, nibbling at its edges with his teeth before gently thrusting the tip of his tongue into Kenma’s warmth. The taste of Kenma’s body mingled with the taste of himself on his tongue and drove Kuroo mad.

He wanted more. He needed it like he needed air. Like he needed water. He needed Kuroo like he needed blood in his veins.

Kenma panted over him, his hips squirming at the new assault of sensation on his body. His mind trying to keep from tumbling back over the edge because, _damnit,_ if he didn’t get that pie out of the oven the whole building was going to go up in flames.

Kenma braced his hands against Kuroo’s shoulders and pushed hard, dislodging himself from Kuroo’s arms and his sinful tongue from his ass. He stumbled the few steps once his feet hit the ground again before finding his footing and turned to glare at Kuroo.

“Do you _want_ the dorm to burn down because you can’t keep you tongue in your head?” His cheeks flamed bright pink as Kuroo stood and swiped his tongue out over his bottom lip, before sucking it into his mouth to clean it off.

“Sounds like a great way to die.” Kuroo’s chin tilted down and he took a step towards Kenma. He took a shaky step back and felt his legs bump up against the bed, contemplated making a run for the bathroom and locking himself inside before realizing that with the way his hips pounded and his knees shook, a snail could have beat him there in the amount of time it would have taken him to reach his destination.

“Hey, sit down before you fall.” Kuroo reached out and gently pushed against his shoulders until he sat. He winced at the pressure against his butt and shifted to find a comfortable position. “I’ll go take care of the pie, then I’ll take care of you. Okay?”

Kenma nodded once and sent Kuroo off to the kitchen, the man struggling into a pair of light blue, checked boxers that had been living in the corner of the room for a few days, before he left the room. Kenma took a deep breath and ran a hand up through his hair, slicking the strands back off his face. When he brought his eyes back forward, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror above his dresser. Slowly he rose from the bed and shuffled over to take a good look at himself.

His eyes were hazed over and held just the barest hint of unshed tears. His cheeks were still pink and flushed. His neck and chest were covered in bright pink bruises and red crescent shaped bite marks. His stomach still had a few remains of his orgasm still splattered across it.

His fingers skated across his chest, tracing his fingers lightly over his now puffy nipples and closed his eyes. He gasped as he felt his body contract and a small drip of Kuroo’s cum ooze from his body.

God, how much had Kuroo left inside his body if even after Kuroo had tongued him apart and swallowed down most of his orgasm from deep inside him that there was still more to try and escape from his loosened, thoroughly fucked out body.

His fingers left his chest and skipped down his ribs and over his hips, his fingers moving to slip between his cheeks and trail his fingers through the little bit of cum that had just left his body. Kenma hissed as his fingers played in the slick fluid, grazing over his overly sensitive hole before pulling his fingers away so he could examine them.

His fingers were shiny and slick from the remains of Kuroo’s orgasm that he had trailed them through, and a nice snail trail formed when he separated those fingers. He brought the tips to his lips and hesitantly licked at them, scrunching his nose before he even made contact in preparation of the potentially bad taste.

But all that met his tongue was warmth, and freshness and the heady scent and taste of sex and sweat. Not that he tasted clean, that cum did just come out of his ass for Christ’s  sake, but it wasn’t wholly unpleasant either. He reached out his tongue further, swirling it around the digits before pulling them into his mouth.

He moaned quietly as he sucked at them. His tongue and cheeks pulling the slick from his fingers and swallowing it down the back of his throat. He pulled them out with a silent pop and stared at them in disbelief, a small smile pulling at the edges of his mouth.

“If you’re gonna play with yourself, I would much rather be under you so I could watch.” Kuroo purred from the door.

Kenma tilted his head to glance at his boyfriend and took him all in. The way his arms were crossed across his chest, bunching up his biceps and pecs. How his boxers were slung low on his hips, his Adonis lines and treasure trail just visible over the waistband. The way his long feet were crossed at the ankle.

He was the picture of relaxation and sexual perfection and Kenma wanted nothing more than to lie down and welcome Kuroo into his body over and over again. Until he couldn’t take anymore and either passed out or ascended to a higher plane of existence from the pleasure.

“Pie?” Kenma questioned, shifting his weight so his hip was propped against the dresser, one hand skating down to cover his slowly hardening length.

“It’s fine. I like my desserts flame broiled and crispy so all is good.” A smile split his face in half as he joked to try and make Kenma feel better about the potentially ruined dessert, before he pushed off the door jamb and strolled over to Kenma. He pushed a black shock of hair behind his ear and nuzzled at the shell, sending shivers down Kenma’s spine.

“Now,” Kenma felt Kuroo’s arms slink under his knees and behind his shoulders as he lifted him into the air and began carrying him to the bathroom. Kenma’s arms shot out to hold onto Kuroo’s neck so that he had some secondary security against a fall. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“You already did a pretty good job of that before you saved the building from my poor abilities in dessert making.” Kuroo shifted him in his arms as they entered the bathroom and he switched the shower on and stood Kenma on the tiled floor.

“That’s okay. I much prefer lollipop’s anyway.” Kenma shuddered as he felt the tips of Kuroo’s fingers brush the underside of his growing erection.

“Y-you are hopeless.” Kenma gasped as he felt Kuroo’s arms circle his midsection and seal their lips together, maneuvering them both under the gentle, hot spray of the shower. As the water sluiced over their bodies, washing away all the sticky, sweaty remnants of their first time together, Kenma couldn’t help feeling a little sad. He had loved having the physical reminder of Kuroo’s and his feelings plastered to his body for anyone to see.

But he was also grateful for the feeling of being clean once again.

Kuroo’s lips played along his jawline, up over his ears, and across his eyelids as the water pounded down over his shoulders, before taking his lips in a series of gentle kisses. Their tongues lazily sliding against one another as the mirror began to fog up from the steam of the shower.

Kuroo pulled back from him and gently cupped the side of his face, waiting until Kenma opened his eyes to look up at Kuroo and wondered how he had ever gotten so lucky as to be able to call him his.

“Hopelessly devoted to you!” Kuroo belted out in his best Olivia Newton John falsetto. Kenma blinked once, twice, and buried his face in Kuroo’s chest.

“This is never gonna stop, is it?” he groaned.

“Nope!” Kuroo proclaimed triumphantly, before dusting the tips of his fingers against Kenma’s sides.

He fidgeted to get away from Kuroo’s torture. But it proved fruitless as his face cracked wide and deep belly laughs gurgled up from his toes as he danced across the tile.

“Stop, stop!” Kenma begged between gasps and laughs.

Kuroo eventually ceased Kenma’s suffering and took him in his arms again, both of them giggling against the other. There was nothing stopping them anymore. No miscommunication. No hesitancy. No fear of unrequited feeling. It was just them now.

 Just him, and Kuroo. And the promise of forever.


End file.
